Step Into my Office, Baby
by cuddlebeans
Summary: Beth Greene is starting over. At twenty she's just been released from her second stint at a self harm program in three years and her family was hoping it would be the last. Trying to start her life a new, she gets a job as a secretary at Horvath's Auto Shop. In time she learns that her rough around the edges boss, Daryl Dixon, may share some of her demons.
1. Chapter 1

Beth Greene shifted uncomfortably in the plastic seat of the waiting room outside her therapist's office. This was her second stint at a self harm program in three years and her family was hoping it would be the last. Grady Hospital was in the city, far from her parent's farm but they were able to make visits on weekends. Her mother would bring baked goods or books Beth had asked for from the bookshelf in her room. It was awkward, sitting there in the tiny visiting room, her father's eyes so sad at the idea of his youngest daughter being prone to self harm. Every time they came to visit when they would leave, her father would hold onto her as if he'd never see her again, as if he'd already lost her.

"Daddy, I'm fine. Only have six more weeks of the program and then I'll be home."

"Promise me this will never happen again, Bethy. Breaks our hearts seeing you this way. I wish you'd let me help you somehow."

"I'm getting all the help I need. By the time I'm released the fall harvest will be over and we'll have all winter to spend time together. Okay?" She places a kiss on her father's cheek, trying to assure him in any way possible that this will be the last and final time she'll try to take her own life.

It wasn't that Beth hated her life or herself or anything in particular it was just something that she did. Something she had done when things become too much and her mind started to consume all her thoughts, swallowing her up and making her into someone she didn't recognize. Finding that release was always so prevalent, she never thought to question the reasoning behind it. During the 7th grade, Beth found herself slipping in and out of a sadness she couldn't contain. Feeling moody and angry. Hating everything that came out of her stupid brother's mouth. For the first time in her life nothing made sense to her for no particular reason. Maggie had told her the moods swings were just a side effect of puberty and in time she'd get used to it. For a while she believed that until she started her first period at fourteen.

After lunch Beth stopped by the girl's bathroom to wash her hands, apply a coat of chapstick and try to ignore the thoughts of the rest of the day nagging at her, school daunting as ever. The second she pulled down her panties and saw the blood, she knew exactly what had happened. Peeling off her underwear and wrapping the center with toilet paper she made a makeshift pad, saying a silent prayer it would hold together through the rest of the day. Of course on this particular day she had chosen to wear shorts. The remainder of the day she spent in silence as her friends talked and gossiped about boys, copying each other's notes and sharing gum. Beth wanted to open her mouth, wanted to tell them what had happened but she couldn't. Something about this made her feel like everything was falling apart just like she always knew it would.

She wouldn't talk to anyone but Maggie, crying any time her mother would try to talk to her about tampons or midol. Screaming for her to leave their room. Whatever her sister had assured her would even out over time hormone wise had only gotten worse.

"It gets better, I promise." Her sister cradled her head, pushing her hair back behind her hair. "Besides, now you'll get curves."

"Great. More bullshit to deal with. I'm not ready for this." Shaking her head, she wipes away tears with the back of her sweater. "Women get to carry around all of it, don't we?"

"Nobody is ever ready for it, Beth. You just have to deal with it."

"That's it? That's life? You just have to 'deal with it'?"

"Unfortunately that's just the way it is. You know I love you but I'm not going to sugar coat it for you. You're not a little girl anymore."

Surprised with her sister's blunt attitude, she pulls away, turning her head to her pillow. "You don't have to be mean about it."

"I'm not mean. You're overly sensitive. PMS or not. You always have been."

"That's it? That's life? I'm a cry baby? That's the life changing advice I get from my big sister?"

"What do you want me to say, Beth? You started your period. It's not the end of the world."

Hearing Maggie get up and close the door to her room, she feels a rush of anger, of heat fill through her body. Out of all the people who were supposed to understand her, be there for her and sympathize with her, she thought that she sister would be the one to tell her what she wanted to hear.

Later that weekend, Beth tended to her horse, Nellie, detaching the straps, freeing her from the restraints. Nellie, notoriously being nervous stepped back suddenly, releasing her head from bridle in her mouth. The heavy metal fell against Beth's wrist, leaving a dark, red mark. The second the impact of the metal hit her skin, she felt rush of release. This pain was not like what she had felt in her abdomen, the searing, gnawing pain inside her stomach, the aching in her back and legs. Something about this left her feeling light and airy, floating with the sting of the

Immediately, she wondered if this was the kind of thing people had talked about in health class, on those made for TV movies about kids from broken homes who cuts themselves because they were unhappy? The adrenaline pumping through her veins was a revelation, a revelation from the emotional torment of puberty. The weight of the world was no long on her shoulders. Looking from Nellie to her wrist for a moment, she savors the moment. Steadying herself against the hay bale behind her, she takes one hand and pushes it against the mark, wincing at the sweet sense of comfort.

"Did your last program have any job placement programs? Workshops?"

"No, I had only done outpatient before this. We only went for three hours a day, there wasn't really time for anything else."

"Well, at Grady we have several different options you can chose from. There's a courier training, secretarial work, library assistant…" He begins listing off a few more options but she's already decided on one.

"I might be interested in being a secretary. My Daddy would have me help him with filing and stuff sometimes for his work. Mostly for taxes and stuff."

"That's great. It starts out with a typing course. If that's something you want to do, that will have to take place of your recreation time on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Is that okay with you." Looking up from his chart, he smiles hopefully at her.

She nods her head several times. This place has been nothing but boring since the second she arrived. The nurse in charge of her ward was convinced she had an eating disorder at first because Beth found herself pacing the corridors bored out of her mind.

"Great. Well I'll make sure to add it to your file and schedule and you'll start next week."

"Do people who do the course end up getting a job right away?"

"Not too long after, usually. We'll get you set up with some interviews once you're released."

Beth immediately enjoyed the typing classes. They were learning on old fashioned typewriters from the 50s. A piece of cardstock covering the keys to avert her eyes.

"Now remember to try to keep your hands on the home keys. Technology has make us want to move around all over the place. I see some of you with those two fingers! No more of that!" The instructor walks about the room, yardstick in his hand.

Beth moves her fingers gracefully along the keys, eyes cast ahead on the paper in front of her. Biting her lip and her tongue, she concentrates carefully on each word, each letter, reciting them individually in her mind.

 _The flesh bores the opposite. The reflecting cable enlarges the convict. Why does the ethical rain respond under an advance? A thread bores a tame suffix. The demise closures the headache. Can the classic stagger near a fussy biography?_

The instructor makes her way to Beth's table. "Very good. I'm impressed." She puts her hand on her shoulder, encouraging her to go on.

For the first time since entering treatment she's proud of herself. Excited about something other than finding a way to hide the pinch marks she'd given herself, resulting in a fussy nurse, accusing her of under eating again for trying to hide her body during bathroom time.

"You'll be able to find a job in no time. Any business would be happy to have you as a secretary."

The morning Beth was released from Grady, her parents had been an entire hour early. Waiting in the the lobby for her, they spoke with Dr. Edwards at length about her treatment and everything they needed to do to make sure she felt comfortable and safe at home. Wanting to put it all behind her, she said good bye to her nurses, her doctor, the couple of other girls she had met there in group. The ride home was quiet, her parents occasionally talking about the goings on of the farm, what Glenn and Maggie were up to.

Eager to get back to her own bed, as soon as they got out of the car, Beth made her way to her bedroom. Annette followed her up the stairs not long after, knocking on her door softly.

"Sweetheart, I hope you're not planning on going to bed early. Otis, Patricia, Maggie, and Glenn are coming for dinner. They're all so anxious to see you."

Opening the door quickly, she narrows her eyes at her mother. "Momma, I'm exhausted. I can't believe you'd have a bunch of people over here the day I get discharged."

"They're not 'a bunch of people', Beth. They're your family."

"It's just not what I was expecting. I wish you had told me before."

"It was supposed to be a surprise. A little welcome home?" Trying to understand her mother's gesture, she leans in for a hug.

"Okay. I'll come to dinner but please don't make a big deal out of anything."

"It's just a family dinner, honey. Your sister is dying to see you and I couldn't keep her waiting another day, okay?" She takes her daughter's face in her hands, kissing her forehead. "You've got time for a nap if you lay down now, okay? Set an alarm for an hour and if you're not up I'll come get you."

Nodding, she gives her mother a small smile, closing the door and pressing her back up against it, overwhelmed by the evening looming ahead of her.


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner was awkward to say the least. Beth tried to keep a smile on her face for her parents but dodging questions about treatment was proving to be difficult. Maggie had wanted to know all about her new therapist and her job placement program but it was all too much. Her father and Otis talked about finishing up the autumn crops and what needed to be done that week. Otis was her father's farm hand and good friend. His wife, Patricia, would often help Annette with canning and baking, odds and ends around the house while they gossiped and watched soap operas.

Beth and Maggie stood by the kitchen sink after dinner, working on dishes together.

"Sorry I wasn't able to come see you as much this time around. Between school and work, making a day out to Atlanta was kind of impossible, you know?"

Shaking her head at her sister, she chuckles. "You act like I was having chemotherapy done or something, Maggie. It's not a big deal. I'm home now, aren't I?"

"Yeah, you are."

"You don't have to be so dramatic about it."

"You scared me. What do you expect? This isn't anything new, Beth. This is the ithird/i time."

"I'm not talking about this right now." Setting down the dishtowel and walking away from her sister, she heads upstairs, her eyes swelling with tears.

Laying down on her bed, she feels for the bracelets on her wrists, concealing the bandage where her wound lay healing. Fumbling with the adhesive tape, she begins to slowly peel back the bandage, exposing the delicate flesh to the cruel night air.

"Beth, I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about it anymore, okay? I didn't mean to make you upset." Maggie calls from the other side of the door, her voice dripping with concern for her little sister.

"Please just let me be alone, Mags. I'm so tired." It wasn't a lie. She was exhausted. Even laying on her bed, she left like she could still collapse further, her body not giving in to the weeks of emotions crumbling under her heavy lids.

"Alright. Please, please call me if you need anything. Okay?" Waiting for her sister's footsteps to descend down the stairwell, she turns onto her side.

That morning at breakfast, Beth eagerly beats her father to the paper, scouring the help wanted ads for jobs that peak her interested. So far all she had seen were a couple of receptionist jobs for a snooty salon at the country club and one for a dental office. Shrugging, she goes back to her cereal.

"No luck yet?" Her father enquiries from behind the local news section, eyeing his youngest daughter with concern.

"I'm just looking for something a little less fancy. Something real. A job with regular people."

"Regular people? What do you mean by that?"

"Well, the listings here are for a salon and a dental office. I'd like to work around people who are normal. Not fancy salons or stuck up dentists."

He shrugs. "Beggars can't be choosers, Bethy. You gotta take while the gettin's good. Might as well apply for them."

Annette sneers at her husband for dampening their daughter's feelings. "Hush, Hershel. I don't want her working a job she doesn't want to be at. Take my car, honey. There are bound to be some jobs that aren't listed in the paper. Go into town with your resume and see if you can't find something better, huh?"

"Alright, Momma."

"Bring me your good blue pencil skirt and I'll iron it for you while you get ready." Admiring her mother for being so supportive, she gives her a quick kiss before rinsing her bowl out at the sink and making her way upstairs.

Driving around town, Beth found a couple of other places looking for secretarial work but neither of them felt like the right fit.

Taking the long way home, she noticed Horvath's Auto Shop had a help wanted sign out from. Her Daddy had to have his truck towed there once before and she was partly familiar with the place. Maybe they were looking for someone to work the front desk? It beat the hell out of dealing with snooty housewives or crazy dental patients. Composing herself, she takes a look in the mirror, smoothing down the neat braid, making sure to fasten her bobby pins tighter.

Getting out of the car and walking up to the door, she feels her nerves now, heat burning in the pit of her stomach. It was an older building, plain grey walls with stark interior. A large desk stood adjacent to the front door, an older computer and typewriter sitting a top of it, not unlike the one she had learned on during her job training. There was a small waiting area with chairs from the 60s, covered in slick plastic. Behind the desk, a large window overlooked the garage where she could see several men working below. In front of that was a coffee table from the same era, stacked high with random magazines. Looking around for someone to help her, she peeks her head down the hallway to the left, a door at the end ajar.

"Hello?"

She hears some shuffling before a man in his mid to late thirties appears from the office, donned in a blue jump suit, his long, dark hair hanging in his face.

"Hi." He grumbles, wiping oil off his hands with a dirty rag.

"Hi, I'm here about the job?"

"Course, uh, you wanna come into the office?" He stands there awkwardly, gesturing towards the open door. She gives him a small smile, nodding and walking into the room.

The office is small, one desk and two chairs in front, a few filing cabinets behind. He goes to sit in his chair, shuffling through the desk for some paperwork.

"Here is an application. Ya got a resume?"

"Oh, yes." She pulls it out from her purse, handing it to him quickly.

"Beth Greene? Okay." He reads over the paper, nodding his head a couple of times.

"Says here ya got top in yer class for typing?" He chews on his thumb nail, brows furrowed at the information in front of him.

"Yeah, I had always done my Daddy's taxes before this. He's a vet, so there's a lot of paperwork, you know?"

"Alright. Ya got reliable transportation?"

"Share the car with my Momma but she only uses it on Sundays for church anyways."

"As long as that's not an issue. Last girl we had in here was always late, makin' excuses about not being able to get a ride from her good fer nothin' boyfriend." He shakes his head, setting her resume back down on the desk. "Ya ain't pregnant are ya?"

Confused by the question she answers quietly. "Um, no."

"I only ask cause we're lookin' for a permanent position. Can't be hiring another receptionist just to have her leave in a year cause she had a baby."

"No, I'm not pregnant."

"I need somebody who can answer phones, deal with customers, insurance companies, paperwork, all that. You'll be workin' closely with me and all the others here. My brother is the tow truck driver, you'll meet him later."

Her eyes light up. Was he giving her a chance? Giving her the job after only one interview?

"Can ya do a trial shift on Monday mornin'? See how ya fit and if all runs smoothly I'll add ya to the pay roll."

"Absolutely. What time?"

"8:00 am. I'll be there to open the shop for ya but if you get the job we'll get a copy of keys for ya."

"Okay. Great." Extending her hand to shake his, he wipes his dirty hands against his chest before returning the handshake. His hands are warm, palms and fingers dry and callous. "Thank you so much for this opportunity Mr-" Before she can realize she hadn't even properly introduced herself, her face turns bright red.

"Dixon." He points at the name tag on his jumpsuit where it reads, 'Daryl'.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Dixon. I really appreciate the opportunity. I promise I won't let you down."

"Daryl is fine. I just manage the place, I ain't the owner or nothin'. No reason for formality."

"Okay well, thank you, Daryl. I'll see you Monday morning." Getting up from the chair, she makes her way out of the building, all of her insecurities from the morning, from the incident with Maggie melting away at the prospect of her new job.


	3. Chapter 3

That weekend Beth and Annette went out to find the perfect outfit for her first day at work. Although it wasn't a formal job, she wanted to make sure that she had a nice, presentable looking ensemble to help boost her confidence while trying to prove herself in a new environment. Narrowing it down to a couple of different skirts and blouses, they eventually came upon the perfect outfit. She chose a brown pencil skirt with a floral top to match, orange with accents of brown, yellow and green. Nothing that stood out too much or was too formal, but helped her to fit the part. Pairing the outfit with some sensible flats, Beth felt she might be able to handle this job without too much difficulty after all.

Sunday night, she found herself unable to sleep. Taking a shower the night before, careful to shave her legs without missing a single hair, she said a silent prayer this interview wouldn't be the thing to set her off, to make her want to release the pent up feelings she'd been pushing down since the day she arrived home. Setting out all of her clothes and pinning her hair into neat curls for the next day, she sat in bed waiting for sleep to come.

Waking up before her alarm, before the sun had rose, she noticed a thick fog settling over the farm. It was likely to be a cold morning. Deciding to add pantyhose to her outfit, she dressed for the day. Applying a light layer of makeup to bring out her eyes, she felt presentable. Professional even. Releasing her hairs from the individual pins, she fluffed it out, pinning back the top portion, separating the curls to frame her face.

Heading downstairs to grab some breakfast before leaving for the auto shop, she said a quick hello to her parents, giving them both a quick kiss before heading out the door. Hershel stopped her to assure her that she would blow them all out of the water. As much as her father didn't understand the issues she had over the years, he always did his best to be as supportive as possible in his own way. The old man smiled at her earnestly, the corners of his eyes worn with wrinkles from years of worry, not just what she had put him through.

"Good luck, honey."

"Thanks, Daddy."

She placed another kiss on her father's cheek before leaving, looking back to see him watching her as she got into her mother's car, backing up and driving away from the Greene family farm.

Getting to the garage about twenty minutes early, she checked her appearance in the rearview mirror, looking for any imperfections in her makeup, smoothing down some fly aways in her hair. Fiddling with the radio, she listened for the morning news, traffic reports, trying to fill her mind with anything but thoughts of the day that lie ahead of her. Thirty minutes went by without any sign of Daryl. Getting out of the car and waiting by the front door, she cups her hands to the glass window, narrowing her eyes to get a better look at the dark office.

"Ya tryin' to break in?" Jumping back, she's surprised to see Daryl standing there, two cups of coffee in his hand.

"No, I'm sorry I was early. I thought maybe you were inside already."

"Nah, you're fine." He hands her one of the coffees, fumbling with the keys, sunglasses still on. Leading her into the store, he sets his drink down on the table. "Alright. Here's your desk, there's the phone. Go nuts."

Unsure of what exactly he means by such vague instruction, she slowly walks over to the desk. "That's it? I mean, what do you want me to ido/i exactly?"

"Mornings are generally pretty slow for the first couple of hours. Familiarize yourself with the office, I don't know." He shrugs, walking back to his office down the corridor, waving his hand behind him. "You know where to find me if you need me."

"Okay?" Going back to her desk, she turn on the ancient computer. Waiting for it to boot up, she looks around the desk, opening drawers only to find most of them empty. A couple of pens sit on top of the desk with a handful of pens and pencils.

Taking a sip of her coffee, she tries to settle her nerves. What was she supposed to do? Maybe she could tidy up the lobby a little bit? Finding a bottle of windex in the bottom drawer, she starts wiping down the coffee table, desk and front windows, opening the blinds to let in what little light was outside.

Going back to the computer, she looks through files, familiarizing herself with the customer's names on the screens and what services they've had done on their vehicles in the past few months. It looked like they had a pretty profitable business. Mainly auto accidents and collisions, on occasion Daryl did some custom work but it wasn't an everyday occurrence. About twenty minutes later the phone rings. She answers it quickly, right after the first ring.

"Horvath Body Shop, this is Beth speaking, how can I help you?"

The gravely voice on the other end chuckled deeply before answering. "Beth, can ya brew a new pot of coffee? Everything's around the corner in the break room."

"Okay, sure. How do you take it?"

"Two sugars, no cream."

Getting up from her seat quickly, she fumbles around the break room looking for everything needed to make coffee. Not bothering to ask which roast he'd prefer, she assumes the dark, grabbing it from the small pantry cabinet. Trying to keep her hands steady as she measures the water, Beth says a silent prayer to herself, slowly pouring the water into the back of the coffee maker. Exhaling deeply, she shakes the packets of sugar against her hands, waiting for the pitcher to fill. Finally, it finishes. Pouring the mug and emptying the sugar packets, she makes her way into his office, holding her breath, afraid that any sudden movement will send the hot liquid spilling over her hands, scalding her instantly.

"Great," he grumbles, immediately taking the mug from her hand, taking a large gulp that would be too hot for anyone, but for him apparently it's not. "thanks."

Swiveling around in his chair, he opens the file cabinet closest to him, retrieving a stack of file folders. "You can take these, type 'em up and bring them back to me."

"Okay. Sure." Giving him a small smile, she takes them from him, talking back to her desk.

"With the typewriter. Not the computer."

Peeking her head back in the door, she walks back, standing in the doorway. "Um, okay. Why?"

"Yer a typist, ain't ya?"

"Yes, but I don't understand why you'd want me to use the typewriter when I can just as easily type them up on the computer and print them out."

"Nope." He shakes his head, taking another swig of coffee. "Told ya, owner is old fashion. Dale says he don't trust computers. The only errors that should be made by humans or somethin'. Like I said before, don't own the place. Just manage it."

"Okay." Walking back to her desk, she flips through the files, examining the papers. They were mostly receipts to be typed up and sent back to customers, a couple of bills.

The front door opens and rough looking man in his mid fifties comes in, wearing a work shirt with the shop's logo on it.

"You the new secretary?" He smirks at her, extending his hand to shake hers.

"Yes! Hi, I'm Beth." She smiles back at him warmly,

"Little brother said you were cute but he didn't tell me you're a blonde. Woo-wee!" He chuckles shaking his head, walking towards the breakroom. "I'm Merle, by the way. Drive the tow truck."

Flabbergasted by the thought of her new boss having described her as cute, she scrambles to think of something to say.

"Ya ever been a receptionist before?"

"No, but I've been doing my Daddy's taxes for as long as I could type so that's about half my life."

"This place ain't so bad. I'm sure you'll fit right in." He winks at her and takes a sip of his coffee before walking down the hall to Daryl's office.

Back at her desk, she starts working on the paperwork she hadn't gotten the chance to start before Merle came in. Setting up her typewriter and taking a deep breath, she begins typing the top letter, starting with the client's address. Biting her lip for concentration, she falls into a rhythm.

The phone rings again and before she can fully answer an angry woman begins yelling loudly, causing her to pull the receiver back from her ear quickly.

"Hello?!"

"Yes, hello this is Horv-"

"I called AAA over half an hour ago and they told me your tow truck driver would be here. Where is he? I don't see anyone anywhere and I'm on the side of the goddamn road!"

"Ma'am I-"

"Don't you 'ma'am' me! You tell your driver to get his ass out here! I've got a flat tire and I need to be at work in twenty minutes!"

"I assure you our driver is already on his way. He will be there as soon as he can."

"If he isn't I promise you your boss will be hearing from me." She gulps, already imaging the job she doesn't have taken from her before she ever got the chance to prove herself.

"That's not going to be a problem. The driver will be there shortly."

The woman hangs up and Beth springs from her chair, sprinting down the hallway to Daryl's office. He and Merle are sitting there sharing a cigarette and the newspaper, their coffee between them.

"Um, there's a woman on the phone who needs a tow. She said she called AAA?"

Merle chuckles and turns to face her. "What's the problem?"

"Said she's got a flat. Needs someone to come out and changer her tire."

"You know how to change a tire, Beth?"

"My Daddy taught me when I was thirteen and we got stuck on the side of the highway." Wringing her hands, she thinks of the angry, impatient woman growing more frustrated by the moment.

"Good girl. Some women never listen. Had a girlfriend like that once. Couldn't be bothered to learn anything that wasn't primpin' or crimpin' her hair." Tipping his head back, he drinks the last of his coffee. "Ya hired a good one this time, little brother. Guess I better be on my way then?"

Daryl senses the worry on Beth's face. "Somethin' wrong?"

"That woman was awfully angry. Said it'd cost me my job if Merle wasn't out there in twenty minutes."

The corner of his mouth cracking a grin, he stops and licks his lips. "Considering you're the best receptionist we've had in all of two hours, I can tell ya that ain't happenin'."

"So, I get to come back tomorrow?"

"Until ya prove otherwise, the job is yours."


	4. Chapter 4

The first few days at the shop were a little rough for Beth but once she got the swing of things, it got a little better. After that call with the woman with the flat tire, Merle made sure to be more diligent as far as time went, worried he'd give the new secretary a heart attack before she even got to cash her first paycheck. Daryl had warned him not to make a nuisance of himself and let her work.

"Ya see her out there tryin' to figure out how to use the hold button?" Merle snickers at his brother, trying to stifle his laughter as the office door is open, allowing any noise to travel down the hallway right to her desk.

"Be nice, she's still gettin' the hang of things. She might seem a little ditsy but I got a feelin' she's a spitfire."

"What? Ya got a little crush on her?"

"Nah, just feel bad for her is all. She came in here lookin' like a deer in headlights or somethin'. Don't know how to describe it."

"She's more like a little mouse or somethin'. Little church mouse." Merle tips his head back and laughs again. "Man, ya should have seen that lady with the flat last week. So was so mad I could barely look at her to keep from laughin' my ass off."

"Well, ya better hope she don't get on the phone and call Dale about it. Or else we'll both have to hear about it."

"She was from outta town. License plate from Minnesota or somethin', I doubt we'll be seein' the likes of her anytime soon."

"Well, regardless, just leave the poor girl alone and let her do her job, alright?"

"It's hard not to poke fun at somebody who acts so damn helpless! Looks like she's about the cry all the time! Eyes as round as saucers!" He howls again, falling into a low cackle.

"Sounds to me like iyou/i got the crush on her. Makin' fun of her behind her back but bein' sweet to her face? Whatcha gonna do next? Put gum in her hair?"

Merle laughs loudly this time, getting up from his seat and clomping down the hall. "I ain't into girls young enough to be my kids. Sounds to me like iyou're/i jealous, baby brother."

Beth smirked to herself, listening to the echoed conversation coming from her boss and his brother. Being the only woman in the building, she wasn't really surprised by this type of behavior. Merle seemed like the type to catcall women in the streets, smacking cocktail waitresses on the behind. She didn't take it personally but she did vow to show him she wasn't a damn church mouse, that was for sure.

Something about the two of them reminded her of she and Maggie as kids. Ornery as hell, two peas in a pod. Generally Merle would run his mouth, going on and on while Daryl scowled into his coffee, doing his best not to egg his brother on in any way. Beth would smile and laugh at Merle's jokes and stories, humor him even by pouring him another cup and asking what happened next.

The rest of the men who worked at the shop didn't come upstairs as often. Daryl had explained to her they had another break room and bathroom downstairs by the shop but she had met Morales and T-Dog the first morning she opened the shop on her own.

"Good morning." She smiled at them both cheerily, struggling to jiggle the door opened.

"You're Beth, right?" The chubby Hispanic man asks her, extending his hand to shake hers.

"Yeah. This is my first time opening, I'm a little nervous." She laughs at him awkwardly, trying to push her hip into the door with some force.

"Here, let me help." She stepped back to give him access to the lock.

"Damn thing gets a little stuck sometimes. Remind me when we get inside and I'll use some WD40, eh?"

"Okay, thanks." She nods her head, taking the keys from his hands and heading to her desk.

"Well, I'm Morales and this here is T-Dog." The other man waves to her, a sleepy grin on his face. "If you need anything else, just let us know." He waves to her and they both walk down the stairs to the shop.

"So, Glenn knows this guy, from work," Maggie starts. Beth already knows her sister is working something over in her mind the way she's looking at her. The way the corners of her mouth turn up but she still tries to main semi serious and casual at the same time.

"Uh-huh." Urging her to go on, she raises her eyebrows. Sitting in the den at their parent's house they sit on the couch watching a bad made for TV movie, painting their nails and binging on cheap drug store candy like they had done so many times before growing up.

"He's pretty cute, Bethy. Maybe we could all double date? Go to the bowling alley or something?"

"That's not totally awkward and weird. Does this guy even have a name?" Biting her lip, she concentrates on holding her hand steady, attempting not to get blue polish all over her cuticles.

"Zach. He works at the pizzeria in the back. Glenn has hung out with him a few times outside of work and I've met him. Seems like a nice guy."

Blowing on her nails, she side eyes her sister suspiciously. "What makes you think I want to be set up? I don't have time for a boyfriend."

"You're not even working full time yet! You have iplenty/i of time for some love in your life." Nudging Beth with her elbow, Maggie smirks at her. "Just come over on Friday. We don't have to go out anywhere but we'll have him over. See if you like him. If not, then you can go home."

Knowing Maggie wasn't going to let up on it, she gives in. "Fine. One hour. That's it. If he's weird, I'm outta there."

Shrugging her shoulders, she puts her hands under her chin. "Just thought it could be good for you, have someone to make you feel good about yourself. Take you on dates and stuff."

Beth softened, sensing the worry in her sister's voice. It wasn't always easy for Maggie to come right out and say what she was feeling, but it was evident that she cared about Beth and wanted her to be happy, that much was true.

"Alright, I'll give him a chance."

"Good." Maggie's eyes brightened. "I think you'll get along great."

After their nails dried and the movie was over, they went upstairs and helped Annette make dinner, sitting around the table with their parents like they had done so many nights before. Beth was starting to feel like this could maybe be a normal she could get used to. Working during the day at a job that she could get better at in time, seeing her sister on the weekends and now even a possible date.

Maggie and Glenn's house was small, a two bedroom they rented from a friend of her Daddy's. It had been built in the 60s and didn't have air conditioning but something about it was really charming. When they first moved in, Beth had helped Maggie sew curtains for the front window and their bedroom, shopping for exactly the color scheme her sister had her eye on. They had thrifted a couple of couples and found a beat up coffee table at a yard sale that Glenn sanded and refinished so it looked almost brand new. It might not have been the fanciest of houses but it was definitely theirs and it made sense, just like they did. Beth admired her older sister for finding someone who fit her so perfectly and hoped maybe some day she could find someone like that.

When Maggie had first told Beth about Glenn, she had said she was never someone she would ever consider being serious about. He was goofy and a total dork, had no real plans for the future. They had met at a party at a mutual friend's house. Maybe Maggie had been a little drunker than she had lead on when telling the story to her sister, but the look she got in her eyes really showed how much she cared about Glenn. What resulted in a one night stand turned into a 'friends with benefits' situation and a couple months later, Maggie felt herself spending more and more time with him. Before too long she couldn't really find a reason not to commit to him. They were a mismatched couple, but they fit.

"Finally! My little sister comes to see me!" Glenn gives her a hug and a quick peck on the cheek, beer already in hand.

"Visit you? I was sitting on my ass in Atlanta for two months and you were nowhere to be found!" Grabbing the bottle from his hand, she takes a swig.

"You don't want that one, girl interrupted. Let me get you a new one." She sneers at him, sitting down at the kitchen table beside her sister. "So, are you iokay/i now? He pops the lid off the beer bottle, handing it to his some day future sister-in-law.

She shrugs, taking a sip. "I was okay before. I'm okay now." Liking the bitter taste of beer off her lips, she feels her sister tense next to her. "It's just something that happened. I don't know why."

"So what, you're like a sadomasochist?"

"Glenn!" Maggie swats her boyfriend, well, punches him in the arm. "Don't say shit like that! Don't you know that kind of thing is a trigger for some people?"

Beth rolls her eyes, shaking her head. "It's not a trigger, Maggie. I told you."

"Whatever, we're not talking about this." Maggie changes the subject quickly. "When is Zach coming over?"

"Should have already been here but he probably had a couple of deliveries."

"I thought you said he worked in the back?"

"He does, he does both." Glenn gets up to look out the front window and sure enough, Zach pulls up in a small honda, two pizzas in hand. Letting his friend in the door, they make their way back into the kitchen.

He's a few years older than Beth, in his early twenties with brown hair, kind eyes and a nice smile. She's not instantly deterred by his appearance but never having been set up before, she's not sure what to expect.

"This is Beth, Maggie's sister." Glenn points at Beth as if she isn't the only person in the room other than Maggie, making her feel even more foolish for agreeing to something like this to begin with.

"Hi." She smiles at him awkwardly, taking another sip of her beer.

"Hi." He gives her a half wave, setting the pizzas down on the table.

"Beer?" Glenn asks, opening the fridge to retrieve a bottle for his friend.

"Sure, why not." Sitting down across from Beth, they make small talk for a while, getting to know each other as Zach and Glenn tell stories about the pizzeria and nights they've had out drinking together.

He went to the local community college for a couple of semesters before dropping out. Shares a small two bedroom apartment with his cousin. Not much to really learn about him but Beth decides by the end of the night it can't hurt to give him her phone number. So when he kisses her cheek after walking her to her car, she's not entirely sure the setup was the worst idea in the world.

Something had felt strange, off. Beth couldn't exactly put her finger on it although she knew exactly what it was, subconsciously. Falling into the lull of a routine left her feeling hazy and restless. As much as she had grown to enjoy her job at the auto shop, she found herself sitting idle many afternoons. Daryl often gave her busy work to do, running errands for him around town or making phone calls for him. She and Zach had been on a couple of dates since that first night at Maggie and Glenn's and she liked him well enough but he was so awkward, so strange. He would ramble on about things she had never heard about, graphic novels and video games, obscure bands he'd burn CDs of for her, only to be shoved to the bottom of her purse until she threw them away later. He was cute, sure, but maybe a little too earnest.

This particular day, Daryl had been in a foul mood, storming into the shop, slamming the door behind him for the first time in the two months that Beth had worked there. He had called for his coffee about an hour later, taking it from her hand quickly without saying a word, eyes cast down at his newspaper.

"Is there anything in particular you need me to take care of today?"

"Ya, go through the files from this year, see who's still around, if not, scrap it." His brow furrows, frowning at her. "Well?"

Narrowing her eyes and walking away quickly, she closes the door behind her quietly.

"Ya don't gotta shut it." He calls behind her.

"Okay." Nodding her head and heading back to her desk, she begins going through the files.

Biting at the end of her pen, she goes through the first stack of files, starting in alphabetical order. Humming to herself softly, she taps her the toe of her shoe against the desk, reading over each paper carefully. A few moments pass and she hears Daryl shuffling around in his office. The door closes with a thud. Thinking nothing of his moodiness, she goes back to work, humming a little louder now, knowing that he can't hear her. By the end of the 'A' folders, it's lunch time and she makes her way back to his office to drop off the paperwork for the next batch. Putting her hand on the door she stops herself, remembering to knock.

"Come in." He grumbles.

Opening the door, she's greeted by a waft of cigarette smoke. Most businesses didn't allow smoking indoors anymore but Daryl didn't seem to care about that.

"Ya finished?" Putting a hand out to take them from her, butt of the cigarette hanging out of his frown.

"Yeah."

"Here, take these."

"Ya gotta knock it off with that shit."

She stops dead in her tracks. "What are you talking about?"

"That hummin' shit, slamming the doors. I can hear every fuckin' move ya make out there. Fer being so tiny ya make an awful lot of noise, Greene." He growls at her, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to-"

"It ain't a big deal. Just got a headache is all." He shakes his head, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray on his desk. "Take these, go on and take yer lunch break early."

"Okay."

Folders under her arm, she slips them into her desk drawer, grabbing her purse and making her way for the door. Crossing the street to the small drug store, she picks up a small bottle of tylenol and a mineral water, trying to show Daryl any sliver of kindness she can for his obvious bad day. Things had been unexplainably strange for her recently and although she didn't know why he was in a bad mood, maybe she could extend a little kindness to him.

Enjoying her lunch on the bench outside, she wonders about his boss. All she really knows about him is that he's got a brother, manages the auto shop and does custom work sometimes. He seemed to be a pretty private person all in all but your boss wasn't the kind of person you went prying about information like that, but she couldn't help from wondering. Scrolling through her phone, she checks a new message from Maggie, a cute text from Zach wishing her a good day at work. He may have been kind of dorky but at least he was thoughtful.

Heading back inside, she drops her purse off, checking the phone for any messages before bringing her peace offering down the hall.

"Hi, I um, got these for you." She smiles at him awkwardly, setting the items on his desk before he can turn around to meet her gaze.

"Oh, thanks." He says, looking her up and down with a strange look on her face, one she hadn't seen before. Was it apathy? Sympathy, maybe? "Ya didn't have to do that."

Shrugging her shoulders and wringing her hands, she gives him a small smile. "I know, I wanted to."

"Sorry fer bein' such a dick to ya all mornin'. Yer a nice girl, Beth. I appreciate all the hard work you been doin'. I know it's borin' sometimes but you been doin' a real good job and I'm sorry if I don't tell you that enough."

"It's just tylenol, Daryl. No big deal."

"I know." He opens the package, smiling at her sheepishly, downing the pills with the water. "Thanks."

She nods her head and walks away, feeling his eyes burning holes in her skin, stopping to meet his intense gaze one more time before leaving the room.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey." Daryl grumbled, making his way to the break room for another cup of coffee.

"Ya could have called me. I could have brought it to you." She smiled up at him from her magazine, on the last ten minutes of her morning break.

"Nah, s'okay. Listen, the owner, Dale, is gonna be by today."

She instantly tensed up, nervous about meeting the owner of the shop. It had been strenuous enough having one moody boss, let alone two.

He laughs at her, shaking his head. "Don't sweat it, girl. Dale's a nice guy, can be a little high strung but he ain't nothin' to worry about. I'm sure he'll like ya just fine."

"I hope so. I just want to make a good impression, you know?"

"Like I said, Dale's high strung but he's an easy goin' guy. Ya ain't made any mistakes so far, keep that up and ya got nothin' to worry about, alright?" He tops off his coffee mug and makes his way back to his office, her eyes watching him the entire length of the hallway.

Trying to keep her mind off of Dale's evident arrival, Beth works steadily into the early afternoon, making calls and typing up the remainder of the 'C' files from before her coffee break. It was dull work, steady and busy, but definitely dull. Not that she minded. Something about the mindless rhythm of her fingers hitting key after key put her in a trance, setting her brain on autopilot, all other thoughts vanishing. About thirty minutes later, she responds to a call for a fender bender which will require Merle's assistance. Stopping her typing to let the driver know, she looks up to see an older man approaching the building. It must be Dale. He's in his mid sixties, with dark, wild eyebrows and kind eyes, a silly bucket hat on his head, the kind her Daddy would wear on long fishing trips and a Hawaiian shirt, he looks like he's ready for vacation.

Setting down the phone, she gets up to greet him. "Mr. Hovath? I'm Beth. I'm so wonderful to finally meet you!"

"Please, call me Dale. Boy are you a sight for sore eyes! Welcome to the shop family! Sorry it's taken me a while to get down here to introduce you." He shakes her hand firmly, his eyes warm and kind. "I've been out of town, visiting my wife's family."

"It's not a problem at all, I understand."

"Hope the boys have been treating you well here. Not giving you too many problems?" He grins at her, craning his neck to look down the hallway towards Daryl's office.

"Maybe Merle a little bit," she chuckles, nerves dissipating now that she feels comfortable around the owner. "but other than that everyone has been great."

"Oh, don't mind him. He just can't help himself sometimes, you know?" Heading down the corridor, he turns around. "I'll let you get back to it then. See what big boss man is up to."

"Okay. If you need any coffee or anything, just holler."

That night after work, Beth reluctantly meets Zach for coffee at a small internet cafe she had never been to on the other side of town. When she first walks in, he's sitting in one of the small armchairs off to the side, laptop in front of him, the light illuminating his features. His eyes flash up to hers quickly, his lips pulling into a grin. She can't help but reciprocate, feeling a flutter in her stomach from the mere sight of his smile.

"Wow, you look nice." He gets up to meet her, giving her a small side hug.

"My work clothes? I look like a Sunday school teacher."

"No, really, you look nice. I like it."

"Thanks." She says quietly, sitting in the chair across from him.

"Do you want some coffee? Tea?"

"Nah, I'll never sleep if I drink anything this late."

"Hot coco?"

"Thanks, Zach. I'm fine."

Moving around in her chair awkwardly, she tries to get comfortable, unsure what to say. The only boyfriend Beth had ever had before this was Jimmy. He had been in her homeroom freshman year of high school and she did all the talking usually. All she'd ever have to do was smile back, laugh at his jokes and answer his questions. Zach was so nervous and pensive.

"So, Glenn says you're a singer?"

"I'd hardly call myself a isinger/i but I used to sing in choir in school, sure." Blushing, she mentally curses Glenn for making a fool of her before she even had the chance to do it herself.

"I bet you could be one. If you wanted to." He smiles at her, fingers playing with the drawstrings of his hoodie. "You ever do an open mic night or anything? They have one here a couple times a month, I think."

"No way. I think I'd probably faint before I could even start singing. That would be mortifying." Turning red just trying to imagine herself in a scenario like that, she giggles. Zach watches her, his eyes intently soaking up her laugh, her smile. He definitely liked her, there was no doubt about that. Beth could feel the attraction between them already.

"Awe, c'mon. You'd look cute as hell up there. Get somebody on guitar and you'd have a show."

"I can play the about him. What it is exactly she hasn't put her finger on but until then, spending more time with him couldn't do any harm guitar on my own, thank you very much. Piano too."

"Well, I didn't realize you were such an independent woman, Miss Greene."

"Yep. If I thought I was good enough I wouldn't want anyone else backing me up, you know? If I'm gonna sing, if it's gonna be imy/i music, I'd have to do it on my own."

Nodding his head, he grins at her. "I get it. You write your own songs?"

"Here and there. Nothing good enough to perform, that's for sure."

"Mmm, I doubt that. I bet you're better than you let on. You may be independent but you're a little too modest."

Maybe he was right. Music had been something she had loved so much when she was young. Something she could always pour her heart and soul into. It was her solace when the storm inside her was raging, ravishing her mind and leaving a disaster in it's path. It was the thing that calmed her, made her see things a little clearer. Maybe it was the thing she needed to put things back into perspective this time around.

Honestly, it wasn't something she had thought about in a long time. That part of her life seemed like such a long time ago now.

"Maybe." Letting out a deep breath, she smiles at him, leaning over in her chair, trying to figure him out. "If inspiration strikes."

Getting up from his chair, he puts his laptop and headphones in his backpack, sliding it on his back and zipping up his hoodie. "Well, let me know if you write anything. I'd be willing to be your audience. iIf/i inspiration strikes." He gives her one long look before going to leave.

"Don't worry. You'll be the first to know." She's decided, there's something.


	6. Chapter 6

Beth smiled to herself, thinking about the night at the coffee shop with Zach. He had made her feel things for the first time that she didn't know were still inside her. That kind of encouragement, that confidence she didn't know still hid somewhere inside her, behind her slim hips, in between her skinny ribs. Maybe she just needed someone like him to bring them out, remind her they were still there.

Grinding the last of the dark roast, she made a mental note to pick up another at the store on her break. Between Daryl and Merle, they went through between two and three pots of coffee a day. Much to her surprise, Merle actually took cream in his coffee, unlike his younger brother. So the first time he opened the fridge to find a frou-frou pumpkin spice flavored creamer next to his plain french vanilla, her face turned brighter than it had on her first day.

"Ya workin' on a new pot?" Daryl walked into the break room, leaning up against the small counter next to her. He looked tired, dark bags under his eyes, his lips chapped.

"Yeah. Should be done in a few minutes."

"You alright? You look pretty tired."

Running his hands through his hair, he sighs deeply. "Ya, been workin' for a new client on a custom order. It's been pretty rough. The guy is picky. Wanna make sure I got everythin' just right. Ya know? If I fuck up, it don't just reflect on me. Looks bad on the shop, on Dale."

"I'm sure it's gonna come out great. You're too hard on yourself Daryl. Too modest." She felt the same words come out of her mouth that Zach had used to describe her. It was true. She didn't know a lot about Daryl, but she was sure that he was a hard worker and cared about what he did, about the shop and he'd never let anything come in the way of ruining that.

He nods his head, looking away from her. "Dale called. He's coming by soon. Get his cup ready, will ya?"

"Is everything okay? He didn't say what it was about?"

"Nah, but I wouldn't worry. Dale isn't one for confrontation. I doubt if it were anything crazy he'd have told me over the phone."

"Here," he pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and pulls out a twenty dollar bill. "just in case it is somethin' crazy, maybe some donuts will soften the blow. Get a bunch of the old fashioned. Dale loves them."

"Okay. Good idea. Which ones do you like?" Putting more meaning into her question than she probably should have, Beth gets up to leave, sliding the money in her sweater pocket.

He furrows his brows for a second then shakes his head. "I don't give a shit. Get whatever ya want. Sprinkles or whatever."

"Chocolate or plain glaze." She answers as if he had asked her, half hoping he had wanted to know.

"I can see that. Simple, huh? None of the glitz and frills?" Chewing on the corner of his thumb, she imagines him sucking the glazes off his fingers from a donut, hands strong and sturdy, fingers thick and solid. Feeling suddenly dizzy thinking this way about her handsome boss, she turns to leave, grabbing her purse from her desk.

She picks out three different flavors of old fashioned donuts, trying to guess what Dale might like. Pegging him for a maple kind of guy, she gets one of those in addition to a vanilla and chocolate. Choosing a couple of sprinkled, a strawberry one with bright pink icing, a bearclaw the size of her head and some glazed twists, she hands the woman the money Daryl gave her, feeling it burning a hole in her pocket. Knowing that it had been his, the way he'd looked at her, like she was something to take in, something to devour, he didn't care about sweet or donuts, she could already tell that much from a stare alone. Daryl Dixon wasn't sweet. Not outwardly anyways.

By the time she got back to the shop, Dale was just arriving, hanging his windbreaker on the coatrack by her desk.

"Good morning, Beth!" He smiled at her brightly. "Ohh, donuts! Daryl must think he's in trouble for something. He never gets donuts unless he's nervous or knows I'm already mad."

"So, does that mean we're all in trouble?" Giving him a weak smile, she pops open the box, hoping the smell of the still warm donuts would sway his mind.

"Not in the slightest! C'mon, let's take these in the office and I'll tell you all about it." Sure enough, Dale goes for the maple one. She had been right. They walked down the hall as he chewed happily, waving a sticky finger at Daryl and sitting down in the chair in front of his desk.

Beth hands him his coffee, still hot from the fresh pot she had just made before leaving. "Ah, yes, thank you."

"So, what is it?" Daryl presses, taking another hefty gulp himself.

"When I came in the other day, I was thinking, this place is pretty depressing looking, don't you think? All that grey. That's not welcoming to customers, is it?" He looks to Beth, hoping for a response from someone who actually knows about color schemes.

"Uh, oh, um I guess it could use a little update!"

"Whatcha think, Daryl? A fresh coat of paint? Some new lamps and furniture? Bring the place up to date a little bit?"

"Where the hell is she supposda work?" He growls back, gesturing towards his secretary.

"We'll move her desk in here for the day, while the painting is being done. You don't mind, do you, honey?"

"Oh, no. I don't want to bother Daryl. The break room is a lot closer. We could just put my desk in there?"

Dale shakes his head, his wild, dark eyebrows knitted in confusion. "No, no, they're going to paint in there too. It will only be for a couple of days."

"Alright. Whatever. It's only for a few days, right?"

The first morning in Daryl's office had started out badly already. He had come in late and was in a bad mood. The painters had arrived right after Beth and moved everything out of the front lobby quickly, leaving her standing in his office alone for the first time, unsure what to do. Deciding to tidy things as best as she could, she observed his desk. Full of empty cigarette cartons and paperwork everywhere. Getting an empty file folder from her perfectly organized drawers, she puts together all his stray papers, throwing away trash and putting things where she can best assume they go. Finally, the clears the whole thing off, spraying it off and wiping it down, placing his clean ashtray in the center.

Going back to work, she types up the newest pile of invoices and bills for clients. Folding each of them neatly and placing them into envelopes. Pressing down the company stamp on the right hand corner, she wonders where Daryl is. He's over half an hour late so far. Chances are he had been up late again and would be in a foul mood. Deciding to take that as an incentive to get the first pot of coffee going, she sets up the pot behind their desks on one of the filing cabinets, now that they'll be without the break room for a few days.

Tapping her fingers against the cold cabinet doors, she painfully waits for the coffee to drip out into the pot. Cleaning out Daryl's mug she smiles at the front. It's an old Garfield mug from the 80s with big lettering that says, "MONDAYS" on it. Giggling to herself, she tries to imagine Daryl buying a mug like this. Surely he hadn't, he couldn't have. Maybe it had belonged to Dale or someone else who had worked there but it was always the one he drank from.

Suddenly the door slams behind her and he's standing there, hair still damp, frown deep, teeth gritted. "Whatcha starin' at? Coffee ain't gonna pour itself." The smile quickly wiped from her face, the mug shaky in her hands, she tries to concentrate on pouring slowly, feeling Daryl watching behind her. "Ain't got all day. Got shit to do, girl."

"Sorry." She mumbles, placing the cup in his hand after pouring the sugar and going back to her files.

"What the fuck did ya do to my desk?! Ya been here all of an hour and ya already fucked the place up." He slumps in his seat, sucking down the coffee angrily.

"Everything is right there in that folder. All I did was throw away your trash and wipe off the desk."

He doesn't answer her, scowling as he goes through the papers, loudly shuffling and sighing. He throws a couple of papers on her desk. "Here. File those."

Rolling her eyes, she sets them to the side. Going back to her typing. Daryl was demanding, a real brute most of the time and as much as he tried to show her kindness when he was in a good mood, when he wasn't he had no problems making it known. Pushing his negativity out of her mind, she thinks back to her music, her writing. The night before she had gone home and worked on some lyrics. Nothing song worthy but isomething/i and that was exciting. Getting into the rhythm of the words, she doesn't notice when she starts humming, biting on her bottom lip and narrowing her eyes.

"Quit with that hummin' shit, girl. I mean it."

Looking up at him quickly, she feels her fingers cramp, her stomach drop. "I didn't even realize I was doin' it. I'm sorry, Daryl."

"If my head didn't hurt I wouldn't care so much. Kinda used to you singing and hummin' down the hall but when you're right next to me it's different, I guess."

Opening the bottom drawer to her desk, she pulls out the bottle of tylenol she picked up at the store the day before. Daryl always had a headache and the more she told him to take something for it, the more he'd protest so finally she gave in and decided to buy a bottle, not leave it up to him anymore. She could tell he was the kind of person who wouldn't always take care of himself. Daryl was the kind of person who worried about everyone else, leaving himself for last.

"Here. Take these." She drops the two pills in his outstretched hand, watching them fall into his wide, flat palm.

"Thanks." He grumbles back at her, popping them into his mouth and throwing his head back. Didn't have to buy a whole bottle, ya know."

Cocking her head at him, she raises a brow. "Really, Daryl? You complain about your head hurting at least three times a week. And that's only the times you tell me about it. Either get more sleep, or take the tylenol."

Cracking a grin for the first time that day, he pushes the arm of her chair playfully. "Thanks for putting up with my grumpy ass all the time. Guess I don't pay you enough for that."

"No, you don't but I don't mind." She reaches out her foot, tapping his work boot playfully with the toe of her shoe. "but if my car ever breaks, it's on you."

"If your car ever breaks, I promise I'll personally fix it myself."

"Really?"

"Yeah, of course." He smirks at her, his hand still on the arm of her chair, hand gripping the wood tightly, causing her to sway slightly. "Can't have T-Dog or Morales messin' around under there when I can do the job myself."

Sucking in a breath, she realizes he actually had been flirting with her this whole time. Maybe now that they were so close, she finally saw it, not just some one sided crush on her handsome, older boss.

"Guess I'll have to keep up on those oil changes, huh?" Licking her lips, she barely whispers back, waiting for him to do something. Anything.

"Just let me know and I'll give ya a lift home. Leave your car here and I'll take care of whatever ya need." His eyes scan her face, searching for something. "Just say the word."

He pulls back, removing his arm from her chair, standing up and going for his second cup of coffee. Composing herself, his eyes on her and she sits up more straight now, shaky hands smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt.

"Should be ready for one pretty soon here. Every 3,000 miles, right?"

Nodding his head, he sets down the cup, leaning up against his desk. "Yep. Just about. Why don't ya leave it tomorrow? I'll have Merle pick ya up for work the next morning so you can drive it home that day."

"You sure? Seems like an awful lot of fus for an oil change, don't you think?"

"Nah. Gotta take care of ya, don't I?" Grinning again, he watches her squirm in her seat, trying to keep the butterflies in her stomach at bay. "Figure I outta return the favor since you're always dotin' on me."

"That's real nice of you, Daryl. I really appreciate it."

"Ain't nothin'. I appreciate all ya do for me, for all of us around the shop. I know I don't say it enough but things run a lot more smoothly since ya got here."

She softens at the compliment, not trying to hide the flush growing on her cheeks. "This is the best job I've ever had. Everyone is so nice. Dale is the sweetest. Merle is a brat but I don't mind him just the same. And you're such a great boss, Daryl. Thank you for giving me a chance." Feeling the words fall out of her mouth more quickly than she should have, she feels embarrassed, Daryl's face turning red now.

"Nah, I'm an asshole. So is Merle. Yer just too nice is all."

"You're a nicer guy than I think you realize, Daryl." They stare at each other for a while, saying nothing, silently sipping their coffee, just enjoying the moment of gratitude between them. Going back to her work, she hums to herself freely now, not worried about his headache.

"Ya know, could get ya a radio to sing along with or something if ya wanted."

Her eyes widen at his suggestion, only proving her point that he isn't as bad as he lets on. "Really?"

"Sure. I wouldn't mind."

"Thanks, Daryl."

Nodding his head and saying nothing, he watches her type as she hums the lines from the lyrics she had written the night before, adding on a few things here and there he had inspired with his kindness. Although she knew Daryl would never be an easy person to get to know, she felt lucky to get to be close to someone so rough and so gentle all at the same time.


	7. Chapter 7

Beth waited around an extra half hour for Daryl to take her home so he could work on her oil change that night. She thought about offering to sit around around and wait for him to do it and then she could drive home herself, but the idea of sitting alone with him in his truck was as somehow slightly less awkward and painful as the prior option. Reminding herself that getting into a relationship with her boss would not only be ill advised but it was highly unlikely at the same time, she assured herself that the light flirting meant nothing. She tried to bring her thoughts back to Zach, reminding herself that he would be better for her, closer to her age. They had more in common, more chemistry between them in the short period of time they had known each other. She had every reason in the world to pursue Zach, but something about Daryl kept popping into her mind.

"Ya ready?" Daryl wipes the oil off his hands with that old, ragged red bandana like he did that first day she came into the shop to ask about the job. He gave her the same expression too. Grumpy and moody, smoldering effortlessly, leaving her speechless to a simple question.

"Mmhm." She manages, clearing her throat.

They lock up the office for the evening, turning off the lights. Daryl obviously had his own set of keys and would be back later, but for now, the office was quiet for the night. Heading towards his truck, he opens the passenger seat, offering a hand to help her up, an unlit cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth.

"Thanks." Hopping up into the truck, she fastens her seatbelt as he slams the door behind him. Rolling down his window he lights the cigarette, backing out of the parking lot and driving down the main road.

"Where ya live?"

It hadn't occurred to her she had never explained to him where her family's farm was. Since that first day they had spoken very little about her family, or anything personal really, yet she felt that she had really gotten to know him and had hoped he felt the same way about her. Maybe it was just the familiarity of being around each other so often, working in such close quarters.

"Down the road aways. I'll let you know when to turn."

He nods his head, flicking ash out the window. "Shouldn't take long. Gonna check out yer brakes and a couple other things while I'm at it."

"Oh, Daryl. You don't gotta do that."

He shrugs his shoulders, eyes cast on the road ahead. "Might as well."

"Well, it's awfully nice of you. I really appreciate it."

"Don't worry about it." He puts out the cigarette in the ashtray on the center console, closing it tightly.

"Turn left up here." Pointing to the stop sign coming up, she feels her nerves rising as he gets closer to home.

"Merle should be there to pick ya up around seven. He ain't much of a morning person so don't be surprised if he's a dick to ya."

"Must run in the family." She says to him playfully, smiling coyly.

Cracking a grin at her, he move his elbow to jab her rips, barely any space between them on the seat. "Like I said, don't pay ya enough to put up with my bullshit."

"Maybe I'll get a yearly bonus for all the flack, huh?"

"I'll put in a good word to Dale for ya, I swear. Best secretary the shop has ever had."

Beth didn't know what he felt, didn't know what he was thinking but he felt something there. The nervousness in his voice, him going out of his way to do something for her he never would otherwise. Making an effort to get to know her, to joke with her. Maybe he did have some feelings for her after all.

"Now you're just pulling my leg, Daryl." Cheeks burning, she turns her gaze towards the window, the farm in the distance.

"This it?" Pointing towards it, he drives towards the front gate, close to the house. As he comes to a stop, she unfastens her seatbelt, the awkward tension in the air rising as they're about to part.

"Thank you again for the ride and the oil change." Pulling her cardigan closer to her chest, she looks down, unsure what to say next.

"Ain't a problem. I'll see ya tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Daryl." Shutting the truck door hard behind her, she walks up to the porch, watching him back up and drive back towards the main road.

Heading up to her room, Beth stops to kiss her parents hello. Hershel sitting at the kitchen table, lost in thought, reading the magazine.

"Hi, Bethy." He looks up at his youngest daughter. Leaning in to peck her cheek as she gives him a quick hug.

"My boss dropped me off, Daddy. They wanted to do an oil change on my car."

Hershel gives her a strange look. "Really? Don't you usually just take it to the jiffy lube?"

"Yeah but I work at an auto shop now, that's embarrassing. If my boss wants to work on my car I can't tell him I want to take it to jiffy lube instead! Probably fire me right on the spot after he was done dying from laughter!"

"Gotta hand it to ya, honey, I don't know anything about cars so it all seems the same to me." Her mother chimes in from the kitchen sink, peeling potatoes.

"I trust him. They'll take good care of my car."

"Go get cleaned up for dinner, Beth. It'll be done in about thirty minutes."

"Can't." Walking over to her mother, she plants a quick kiss on her cheek. "Goin' out with Glenn's friend, Zach. The one I told you about."

"A date?" Hershel asks, looking up from his paper totally surprised. Beth hadn't gone on a date since high school and it was rarely something she would talk about openly, let alone bring up on her own.

"I guess. It's just coffee." Shrugging, she makes her way upstairs to get ready for the evening, sure she smells like car oil and stale coffee from the long day at the office.

"So you're a secretary? What's that like?"

"Mmm, it's mostly pretty boring."

"For what? A doctor or something?"

Laughing at the thought of Daryl as a doctor, she wipes the latte foam from her mouth with the back of her hand. "No, it's for an auto shop. They do mostly run of the mill stuff, some custom work."

"Better than slanging pizzas all day, that's for sure."

"It's not so bad. Glenn seems to like it."

"Glenn's not picky about much. He's easy going, you know?"

"I keep waiting for Maggie to dump him for not being motivated enough but they've been together for all this time, still going strong. Her last boyfriend was the total opposite. I don't get it."

"Opposites attract or whatever, right? I thought the same thing the first time Glenn introduced me to her. She's a real ball buster, huh?"

"Oh yeah." Beth raises her eyebrows, thinking back to all the times she had seen Maggie hand her boyfriend's their balls on a silver platter. "She's always been kind of high strung like that."

"What about you? Should I be wearing a cup next time I see you just in case?" Giving her a mischievous grin, he takes another sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I like to think I'm a little more laid back than Maggie. If you wanna make pizzas your whole life, that's on you."

"I prefer to think of myself as a pizza artist, thank you very much."

"A pizza artist?"

He shrugs, putting his arms out for emphasis. "I'm at a standstill right now. I don't know what I want to do with my life. If that makes me a deadbeat, then I'm a deadbeat."

"There's nothing wrong with that. A lot of people having a hard time to admitting to something like that." Beth knows if it weren't for this job, she would think the same thing of herself. Before this, before the hospital, she didn't have a whole lot going on in her life.

"I tried community college for a while. Took some graphic design classes, some general ed stuff. Nothing really caught my interest, you know? So, I dropped out."

"I don't want you to think I'm judging you. Because you work at a pizza place and I'm in some stupid office, filing and typing up papers. Doesn't make either one of us any better or any worse than the other, you know."

"I didn't think you were." Biting his lip, his eyes scan her face, serious now. Not expecting things to have gotten to heavy, so intense so quickly, she lets out a small giggle.

"I'm sorry." Putting her hand to her chest, she feels her heart beating like a trapped bird in a cage, fluttering around, shaking her up.

"Don't be." Finishing their drinks, they sit in silence for a while, enjoying each other's company. After a while, they walk outside the coffee shop, around the park and the main plaza.

Telling Beth a story about he and Glenn having to deliver over a hundred pizza's to a huge frat party last summer, she laughs so much her cheeks hurt from smiling. When they first got there, two of the frat boys took the pizzas from their hands and held them both down, emptying about half a bottle of tequila each down their throats. They had both ended up so unintentionally plastered, not only had they forgotten to get the money, but they had gotten so drunk that Maggie had to come pick up the car.

It not having entirely been Glenn's fault, she couldn't be too mad but the next day when they had to go back and retrieve the money, things were a little less exciting. They ended up getting it back one way or another, the other way involved Glenn walking off with a couple of laptops as the frat boys had been so intoxicated they hadn't remembered Zach and Glenn's faces let alone ordering a hundred pizzas to begin with.

"Yeah, you should have seen him. It's true what they say about the Asian glow. By the time Maggie came to get us, Glenn looked like Rudolph."

"Wow."

"Needless to say, I haven't drank hard alcohol since that night."

"I can see why."

"Yeah." They stop for a moment, the cold air catching between them, Beth feels her teeth chatter. "Hey. C'mere." He takes her hand, warming it with his, taking a step closer.

Surprised by his boldness, but not deterred by it, she leans into his body, inhaling deeply, memorizing his scent. He smells like coffee and mint and sweat and something else she can't put her finger on just yet.

"Do you want to do this again? Maybe go see a movie or something next time?"

"Okay. I'd like that." Squeezing his hand, she smiles dreamily at him, hoping being this close would give him the confidence to kiss her, because she knew she couldn't muster the strength to do it herself, still too shy to make the first move.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Licking her lips, she looks him up and down, wondering if he tastes as good as he smells.

"I like you, Beth." He wraps one arm around her waist, securing it tightly around her slim hips, fingers caressing the sliver of skin between her coat and jeans.

"I like you too." She whispers, locking one small hand on his bicep, the other around his neck. Realizing they're about the same height, the same size, she thinks they fit perfectly together. Closing his eyes, he dips his head down slowly to meet her lips. They're firm but soft, sweet and new and everything she had hoped for. The kiss sends a shock through her body, through her bloodstream, pumping from her heart, all throughout her body. Gulping hard, she kisses him back, pressing back into his mouth slowly.

He pulls back, fluttering his eyes open. "Good."


	8. Chapter 8

After her first experience with dating in high school, Beth had never really been one to have a boyfriend. Jimmy was sweet, practically worshipped the ground she walked on, but he made her feel instantly suffocated. At first she liked the attention. The way Jimmy would watch her watch by with her friends at lunch while he sat with his friends from the baseball team. The way he would slyly drop a note on her desk in homeroom as he made his way to the bathroom, the pass swinging under his hand. Everything he had done to get her attention had be so subtle at first, like he was doing everything he could to get her to notice him without being obvious about it.

The first date they had gone on was as typical and all american as apple pie. That was something about Jimmy that Beth immediately did not like. He was what Maggie would call, a pretty boy. All her friends pushed her to talk to him, to say yes when he asked her to the movies that Friday night, helped her to pick out the perfect outfit. One that she never would have put together herself in a million years. The majority of the makeup they had caked on her face she ended up wiping off before meeting Jimmy in front of the theater. Checking in a car mirror to make sure her face wasn't blotchy and red or covered in black smears, everything looked okay, the remainder of the mascara and blush leaving her looking still pretty but not overly done up.

He stood beside the front entrance, tickets already in hand, scanning the crowd of other teenagers and families, eager to see the newest movies, looking for Beth amongst them. Nervously walking up to him, she put her makeup soiled sweater in her backpack.

Most afternoons she and Jimmy would walk to his car and talk with their friends for a while until heading to the farm to work on homework, which really meant Jimmy trying to get Beth to kiss while she pushed him off. This went on for a good month. Between kisses in the back of his pickup truck at the drive in or late night romps in the barn, Beth was starting to feel like she couldn't breath.

Every night Jimmy would call, talking on and on about things Beth could not have cared less about, never stopping to give her time to respond or add input. It came pretty clear to her in time that Jimmy was a selfish little boy who wanted her as nothing more than arm candy. A pretty girl on his arm to show off to his friends, to try to get his rocks off whenever he got the chance.

A couple weeks before school let out, Beth told him she couldn't see him anymore, that she needed to focus on school and choir. He called her an ice queen and told anyone who would listen that she was a frigid bitch. All her friends told her she'd made a mistake and she'd never find another boy like Jimmy if she'd tried.

Beth spent the remainder of high school eating lunch alone in empty classrooms, quiet libraries and dimly lit corridors, but it didn't make a difference to her at all. Jimmy was another demon from her past. Walking by the hall, looking her up and down like a piece of meat. That night when she dug the cool metal into her skin, she could feel his greedy eyes on her, beckoning her to delve deeper.

Something about Zach made her feel light, carefree. Beth didn't think it could be that way, so casual and genuine, so natural and comfortable. He never made her feel pressured or weird or anything other than good, a better version of herself even. Their first real date outside of coffee entailed of Thai food and browsing the record store, each picking out a few of their favorite CDs for the other to listen to. Surprisingly, Beth was astounded to see Zach had decent taste in music. Originally she had pegged him as a metal or hardcore kind of guy, but when he showed back up at the register with two of her favorite albums, she wouldn't keep back the grin on her face.

"What? You don't like Queen?"

"Are you kidding me? iA Night at the Opera/i is one of my favorite albums of all time."

He flashes that grin she's grown so fond of, a pack of butterflies emerging from her stomach with every shaky breath. "Yeah, my mom had a cassette tape of it growing up and me and my brothers would scream 'Bohemian Rhapsody' at the top of our lungs until she'd threaten to turn the car around."

"Me and Maggie would always sing it too. Shawn hated it, said we sounded like dying animals."

"Yeah, well I'm sure your vocal skills have come along way since then. Maybe if I ever get the chance to hear it, I can be the judge of that huh."

Feeling a blush heat up her face, she takes the CD from his hand. "Yeah, well, we'll see."

"Whatcha got there?" He points to the other two albums in her hands.

"Oasis and Weezer."

"Ohhhh, man." He hisses, closing his eyes and clenching his fist. "You're a girl after my own heart, Beth Greene. Yeah, you've got killer taste."

"Thanks. So do you." Giving him back and sheepish grin, they set the CDs on the counter, considering they've both got them in their collection.

Hearing tapping on the front window, Beth looked up to see her boss grinning at her, cigarette hanging out of his mouth as usual, greased stained paws on the glass. Two fingers tapping at her, he winks. Giving him back a coy smile, she looks down at her typing, feeling his eyes on her, the blush that rises over her face must be visible, even from outside. A couple minutes go by and he comes inside, bringing with him the cold morning air and the thick, heavy scent of nicotine.

"You're in a good mood this morning."

"Ya well, got a new custom job. This guy is the real deal, if he likes my shit, I could get some serious work from him."

Pushing her chair back, she smooths out the wrinkles of her skirt. Today Beth had picked out a simple navy blue pencil skirt with white piping, a white and blue button up with cap sleeves and tiny detailed buttons, accompanied by white flats. Although she had never been given any dress code, she liked to feel comfortable and somewhat professional at work, but a part of her felt drawn to outfits she thought Daryl might like. Not that he had ever commented on any of them, it was something that had crossed her mind many mornings, her fingers trailing along her wardrobe.

"That's great. I'm sure he's gonna love whatever you're working on."

"We'll see. He's got a reputation for bein' a real bastard. Gonna try to get everything done quick, right by the books. No shortcuts, no mistakes." Putting his hands in his pockets, he looks at the ground.

"Told you before, Daryl. You're too modest." Scanning his face, she admires how handsome he is. Eyes always so pensive, so serious. Today his no different, his expression completely lost in thought. Feeling bad for bringing down his mood, she tries to lighten it. "Besides, if people didn't like your work, they wouldn't keep coming back to you, would they?"

Shrugging his shoulders and licking his lips, he thinks on it for a second. "Yeah, guess yer right about that."

"You know I'll always vouch for you." Propping her hand under her chin, she leans forward on the desk. "Not just cause I'm paid to either."

Chuckling, he walks over to the breakroom. "I'll take the compliment considering ya don't know shit about cars."

"I just type everything up. You're the brains of the operation, Dixon." Shaking her head, she's thankful for just having made a fresh pot of coffee before he came inside.

Walking back with two mugs in hand, he sets one in front of her. Never before had Daryl made her coffee before. She was always sure to do it for him first, or Merle or Dale or whoever else was there before getting any herself. He hadn't asked her what she took in it, but it occurred to her that during the months she had worked there, Daryl had noticed. Had watched her pour the perfect amount of creamer, sugar, everything.

It was then she realized that Daryl was the kind of person who noticed little details like that. Who could pick up on things without asking, just knowing.

"Thank you. I could have done that."

"Nah. Ya do enough for me. Just a coffee."

Walking down the hallway, he stops back to look at her as she takes a sip, nodding to make sure that it was to her liking.

"So, do you like him?" Maggie presses, sitting next to her sister on the couch at she and Glenn's apartment.

"Zach? Yeah, he's cute." She shrugs, smiling. He was definitely cute and she was interested in him but thoughts of Daryl still loomed in the back of her mind.

"From what Glenn tells me, he's pretty sweet on you."

"It' just weird, dating." She shrugs her shoulders, thinking of how messy and complicated everything can be. Things were easy with Zach so far but she didn't know how to break through that awkward beginning, the shy kisses and stolen glances.

They had been seeing each other for a couple of months now and Beth wasn't sure how she felt about him yet. Sure, he made her feel good, confident even, but at the same time it made her feel like she didn't even know who she was, who it was he really liked.

"You're both shy! It's not like you've got tons of experience with guys, Beth."

"Yeah, but I still feel weird. I just can't figure out how I feel about him yet, you know?"

"Stop overthinking things! You like him, he likes you, what's the problem?"

Looking down at her feet, she already knew what the problem was. There were several. "I don't know."

"Give it time. Zach is a really sweet guy." Maggie rubs her shoulder affectionately. "You really deserve someone bein' sweet to you, Bethy. Don't you think?"

"I guess. I'm not used to that kind of attention."

"Let him in, you'll get used to it." She assures her, going back to painting her nails, still watching her sister out of the corner of her eye.

"What if I let him in and he doesn't like what he sees?" She barely whispers, feeling all her anxieties from the past creeping up on her.

"He already likes you, Beth. You iknow/i that."

"I'm just scared. He's the first real actual guy I've ever gotten to know. Or tried to get to know."

"Stop thinking so much, let it happen naturally." Maggie shrugs, blowing on her nails carefully.

"Was it like this in the beginning with you and Glenn? Awkward and weird?"

"Not exactly. Glenn and I started things out as just sex mostly, you know. The more time I spent around him, the worse I felt when he iwasn't/i around. That's how I knew I had feelings for him."

Thinking to herself, she's not sure if she feels that way about Zach. She knows that she enjoys his company and they have a good time together, but she knows if she stopped talking to him that very day, she'd never wonder what happened to him again. Immediately Daryl comes to mind. The thought of losing him, her boss, jeopardizing her job over a crush, leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

"Spend more time with him, see where it goes. If anything he's probably as nervous and scared as you are."

Exhaling deeply, shaking her head, she tries to let it all go, take her sister's advice in stride. Zach did like her and had all the qualities she'd have liked in a boyfriend, if she'd had ever even thought about it prior to being set up with him. No matter how much her feelings for her boss swelled in her chest, ballooning over whenever she saw him, she'd have to keep them at bay. It wasn't worth losing her job, or her friendship with him over. If anything, that would be enough.

"Yeah, you're right, Mags. I like Zach."

Picking up the bottle of purple polish from the coffee table, she rolls it between her hands, feeling better about the situation at hand.

"Good, cause I'm tired of you playing third wheel. Now give me the polish remover. I did a number on my toes." Maggie makes a face, grabbing a wad of paper towels.

Laughing at her sister, Beth feels a little lighter, her worries fleeing her mind for the night.


	9. Chapter 9

It had been a busy couple of weeks at the shop. First thing Monday morning there was a three car pile up on Main street and surprise, surprise, not only was Merle hungover, but he was late. Beth had called him about a dozen times before she got him to answer. Gruffly promising to be there as soon as possible.

"Hold yer horses, sugar tits. I'll get there when I get there."

Gripping her fingers tightly against the phone, Beth felt herself burn with rage. "No, Merle. I'm not gonna get chewed out again because of iyou/i. This isn't some soccer mom. This is a serious accident. Get up off your drunk ass and do your job for once."

Slamming the phone down against the receiver, she shuts her eyes tightly. As much as she loved her job, she couldn't get used to the little riffs here and there but Merle was more of a speedbump. Later on that morning a client came storming into the office, demanding to speak to Daryl after his brand new car was painted the wrong color.

Tension was high throughout the shop, everyone was feeling it. When Dale asked Beth to start working on the taxes early, as tax season was looming around the corner, a part of her wished she could actually say no. Considering that was one of the main reasons she had gotten the job to begin with, there was no way she could decline.

"Dale, I really think it's time you get things up to speed here. I can't be working on everything with a typewriter."

Shaking his head, Dale lifts his eyebrows, grinning from behind his cup of coffee. "I've told you like I've told everyone else, it's human error. That's what I trust. Not technology, not machines. We work with our hands here. Them down there," he points towards the window that views the shop where T-Dog and Morales are working, "and you up here."

Helping himself to another donut, he goes on. "Back in my day, that's just how things were. People worked hard, did things right and got the job done. I can tell you're the kind of person who was brought up that way, Beth."

Nodding, she thinks to all of the morals her father had instilled in she and her siblings growing up. Always having a story from his boyhood, an anticode to relate to the problem at hand. "My daddy isn't much older than you, he's a bit old fashioned like that too."

"Oh yeah?" He raises his eyebrows, his head nodding in agreement. "Looks like I was right about you. I haven't even met your father and I can already tell he's a good man."

"He'll show his face one of these days. You two would get along, I think."

Dale grins at her. "I'd like that. Have him come by some time when you know I'll be around. I'd be honored to share a pot of coffee with your daddy."

"About the taxes, I was hoping to get the filing system into shape before all this but I guess I'll figure it out." Knowing it was likely she'd have to stay late all that week to get everything done, she makes a mental note to text Zach and cancel movie plans with him.

"You're a smart girl, Beth. Of course you'll figure it out." He gets up from his chair, brushing the donut crumbs off his shirt. "When we get those tax returns back, we'll see about adding some more decor in here. Figure we've got the womanly touch now, I'd leave all that up to you?"

Not being able to help but crack and smile, she grins at Dale. "Of course. I'm happy enough with the new paint and furniture. All that grey made it feel like a prison in here."

"Eggshell white isn't much better but, it was the cheapest."

"It's great, Dale. Don't worry." The new office hadn't been anything extravagant but it was definitely an improvement. Being the cheapskate he was, Dale had found a good deal at a going out of business sale for the furniture. Heavy leather chairs and a matching couch for the waiting area, a sleek dark wood coffee table and a desk to match for Beth.

"The break room will be next, but for now, it's a start. Don't work yourself ragged, you hear?" He points a finger at her as he walks out the front door, smiling brightly as she waves goodbye to him, grateful to have such a sweet, and for the most part easy going boss.

Closing the heavy garage door behind her, Beth sighs to herself, feeling the strain, the stress of the day in every muscle of her body. She had stayed two hours later to get all filing and paperwork set up and just as she was about to leave, Daryl brought her another two boxes full of receipts and forms. For a business that ran as fairly smoothly as it did, she was truly surprised they hadn't been audited before solely based on their filing system. It was like Dale was dead set on living in the stone age.

Maggie was sitting at the kitchen counter, eating a plate of leftovers. She and Glenn were both lousy and cooks and most nights she'd end up bringing home leftovers or eating there if Glenn had deliveries that night.

"Well, you look like hell." She said with a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Hello to you too, Maggie." Beth said flatly, narrowing her eyes at her sister. Taking off her sweater and purse, she made herself a plate of food. Waiting for it to heat up, she took a seat next to Maggie at the kitchen table.

"Rough day?"

"Yeah. I'm working on the owner's taxes for the whole shop. This is nothing compared to Daddy's. It's such a mess. Gonna take me all week. Probably longer." Resting her hands underneath her chin, her eyes left heavy, the makeup she had put on early that morning making her eyelids feel dry and achy.

"Jeeze. Don't bite off more than you can chew. Taxes aren't due for a while anyways."

"Yeah, but he wants them done early so we've got extra money to finish redecorating." The microwave goes off and Beth goes to get her food, sitting back down at the table. "They just painted the lobby where I am and I had to work in my boss' office for a few days."

"Who the owner?"

"No, Dale is the owner. He's retired but he's still around, he's just not at the shop every day. Daryl is my real boss, I guess. He manages the shop and does custom work in the evenings."

"Ya don't mind working around all those guys all day, Bethy? Makes me worry about you a little bit."

"No, they're all pretty nice. Nobody ever gives me a hard time. I mean, Merle, the tow truck driver, Daryl's brother is a total ass but he's never said anything iexplicitly/i offensive."

"Any of them cute?"

"The two mechanics who work downstairs I think are both married. Merle is weird as hell, so no, but Daryl has that whole, dark and mysterious thing going for him." She shrugs her shoulders, she goes back to her plate of food.

"You be careful. Guys can seem nice at first, but when you've been around then alone, late at night like that, they'll start looking at you different."

Thinking back to the way Daryl looks at her, it burns right through her chest, making her skin burn in the most deliciously unfamiliar way. Something she knows she's not supposed to want, but she can't help herself from feeling every time those endlessly blue eyes lock with hers.

Maggie stops to look at her sister, hitting her arm, Beth snaps out of thought. "You know what I mean right?"

"I'm not a baby, Maggie. You make it seem like I'm not safe at my own job. They're not a bunch of creeps or anything,"

"Well, maybe I'll have to stop by for lunch one day and I'll make that decision for myself."

"Really? You gonna come check up on me at work? Daddy hasn't even done that yet. He trusts me to be able to chose a place of work that's, 'acceptable for a young lady'." She giggles, trying to imitate their father's voice in regards to her choice of workplace.

"If it were up to Daddy, we'd both have been committed to a nunnery years ago, I'll tell you that much." Maggie makes a face, remembering back to all of their father's overly strict rules when she was growing up. Taking both of their plates to the kitchen sink, she washes them off.

Hearing a voice clear behind them, they turn to see their father standing there, a less than amused expression on his face. "If it were up to me you'd both have gone to college and been married with careers by now."

"Daddy, Beth is barely out of high school and you act like I've already ruined my life for goin' to community college."

"Just isn't what I had planned for you, Maggie." He shakes his head at her, steadying himself on his cane. Hershel and Maggie had a turbulent relationship, often butting heads because when it came down to it, they were both so damn similar and stubborn too.

"Sorry my AA ain't good enough for you, Daddy. Not everyone wants to know what they want to do with their lives right away. I'd expect you of all people to understand that." She's referring to Hershel's issues with alcohol. When he was young he had struggled to function, drinking his way from job to job, eventually ending up in veterinary school for long enough to graduate. Shortly after Maggie was born, he vowed to never drink again and aside from a few relapses over the years, he hadn't.

"I never said that. I isaid/i it wasn't what I had planned. All I want is for you to show a little more for your life, some more motivation. Some deadbeat boyfriend and a waitressing job isn't gonna take you anywhere. Think we both know that."

Beth feels her throat go dry, the remnants of dinner sticking to her cheeks, making her feel suffocated from the inside out. Their father may be giving Maggie the third degree, but she can feel the underlying tension her father has for his youngest daughter's decisions in life. Hershel had been pushing her, forcing her to take each next step with her life. From getting her driver's license to graduating high school. He had made it his personal mission to make sure that Beth didn't make the wrong choices when she was a teenager because she had already hidden so many things from him.

Taking that from her, the ability to do anything for herself, Beth closed in on herself. Every day after school Hershel's pick up truck waiting for her for a therapy appointment, to the library to make sure she did her homework. Eyes carefully scanning her arms for any scratches or cuts, any imperfections indicating his youngest daughter had set her mind on going to war on her body.

Standing in the kitchen next to Maggie, Beth felt those same eyes, scanning and consuming, pushing and urging her. Letting out a shaky breath she didn't realize holding in, she feels her sister's hand on hers, squeezing gently as she intertwines their fingers together.

"I'll figure out the rest when the time comes. Why rush myself into something I don't want to do?"

"I wish you'd just look into transferring. There's nothing left for you in this one horse town, sweetheart." They both know he's referring to Glenn. Again, it wasn't that Hershel disliked Glenn, but like with everything else, Hershel had other plans for his daughter's future.

"I'm happy here." She shrugs, taking her sister's hand towards the staircase. "Things will fall into place. Everything happens the way it's supposed to." Not wanting to argue with her father anymore, Maggie takes the initiative to leave, dragging Beth upstairs with her.

Closing Beth's bedroom door behind them, them both plop down on her bed, Maggie burrowing her head into a pillow.

"God, why is he like that?!" She muffles into the fabric in front of her, hands clenched into fists.

"He heard what we were saying about the guys at the shop. That's why he got so snarky. Went after you because he's too afraid to say anything to me about anything. Thinks he'll break me."

Maggie sits up, giving her sister a soft glance, her eyes laced with guilt. It was true. Being Beth's scapegoat didn't matter to her, not when she saw the way it affected her, the way she looked even smaller, closing in on herself, her eyes lost in thought, brain consuming her.

"Bethy, you know he's passive aggressive. He can't talk to you because he doesn't know what to say. He's just afraid." Putting out a hand to grip Beth's shoulder, she pulls her in for a hug, clutching her tightly.

"I know he's disappointed in me but, I don't know what to do. It's all the same, over and over. Therapists, pills, they don't help. Makes me feel looped out or like I'm in a haze. I'd rather feel this, feel something then hate myself like that." Tears burning in her eyes, she burrows her head into Maggie's sweater, angry with herself, with her father.

"You're doing everything you can and that's good enough. You're doing more than that, Bethy. Look, you've got a job a boyfriend! A year ago I'd have laughed my ass off if you'd have told me that."

Pulling back, she wipes her face with the back of her hand. Scowling she barely whispers, "Zach isn't my boyfriend. And is it that hard to believe I could actually hold down a job? Jesus, Maggie."

"That's not what I meant! I'm trying to say you've come along way. You don't give yourself enough credit. Daddy doesn't need to put you down, you're hard enough on yourself as it is."

"Am I stupid? For taking this job? Should I be behind the desk at a dentist's office or something?"

"No. You're grown now, Bethy. And so am I. What Daddy says, what he wants, none of that matters anymore. Our lives are up to us."

She thinks hard on that last part. It was up to her, every last detail. If she wanted to work at the shop, date Zach and maybe even move out on her own someday she could. Was that any worse or better than what Maggie was doing? What made her happy? When if that wasn't what her father had wanted? Beth could see how much Glenn cared for her sister, the way he looked at her like a lost puppy, like he'd follow Maggie to the ends of the Earth if she wanted him to. And she was nearly sure he would.

"Glenn is a good guy, you know. Daddy can't see that because he'd rather see you with someone more like him."

Maggie laughs into her sister's hair, squeezing her again. "I don't give a shit who he'd rather see me with. Glenn isn't going anywhere anytime soon. That's for damn sure."

Standing up and grabbing a sweatshirt from Beth's closet, Maggie slips it on and zips it up. "You shouldn't either. If you did want Zach to be you boyfriend, that wouldn't be any of Daddy's business either."

"I haven't even know him that long. Why would I want him to be my boyfriend?"

"Because he likes you! It's pretty obvious. Not like he hasn't made it clear." She shrugs, picking up her purse from the vanity.

"Why do you keep pushing it? I'm seeing him on Friday it's just still new to me, I'm not used to all this attention. It feels weird."

"What's wrong with having someone pay attention to you? Let it happen, Beth. You're always trying to hold on, control everything."

Feeling resentment towards her sister's lack of understanding, she closes up, not wanting to continue the conversation further, arms crossed at her shoulders, sinking back into her mattress.

"There you go, back in your shell as usual. Whatever, Beth. You can't expect things to change if you keep doing the same things over and over." Making her way towards the door, she stops before closing it. "I'll text you this week about lunch, okay?"

Nodding her head, she turns over, curling into her pillow as she hears the door click closed. The stress from the day, from her father, from Maggie, the looming weight of an expected relationship with Zach suffocating her already barely breathing lungs, Beth stifles a breath. Tears, streaming down her face, she clutches her fists together tightly, digging her nails into her pails, hoping the small sting will be enough to make her feel something, anything as she tries to drift off to sleep. Hoping her nails will be sharp enough to draw blood, to keep her from taking the chance to do it herself, to take herself back to that dark place in full, her demons patiently awaiting her arrival.


	10. Chapter 10

Working through the morning, Beth was happy to finally be getting to a good point getting all of the paperwork together for taxes on top of her already growing work pile. As long as she kept a steady pace going, stopping to answer phones as needed and help customers face to face here or there, it looked like there was an end in sight. Pleased with herself for being able to prioritize so well, she hoped Dale would be equally happy with the rate at which she had gotten things done so far.

She still thought it was absolutely ridiculous he had her typing out every single document but what was she supposed to do? Dale was the boss, it was all up to him. Even if it made things take twice as long, at least she'd always know where everything was, neat and in it's place.

Glancing at the clock, she wondered where Daryl was. Even Merle had gotten to work on time, having just left for a tow not too long ago. He was over an hour late, which was a little unusual for him.

Trying to keep her thoughts on the work in front of her, she goes back to typing, falling into the rhythm of her hands tracing the keys, her eyes floating above the words as she whispers them to herself.

The front door slams and in comes Daryl, looking more angry than Beth has ever seen him in all the time she's worked at the shop.

"Just got off the phone with Dale," he growled at her, eyes livid, a dark stormy blue, "ya fucked up, Greene. Cause you can't keep yer head outta the clouds, we all get fucked over."

"What are you talking about?"

He slides the paper towards her with one finger. "You charged a client $5,100 instead of $1,500. Needless to say, he wasn't happy."

A rush of panic filling her body, her hands shake violently, picking up the paper to review the typo. Sure enough, she had switched around the numbers. Covering her hand with her mouth, she looks from the paper to Daryl, his fists clenched so tightly, the white of his knuckles clearly visible.

"I'm iso/i sorry. I can't believe, I-I'm so stupid."

"Yeah, yer pretty fucking stupid after all, aren't you?" He snatches the paper out of her hand before she can even finish apologizing, cutting her off bluntly. "Come see me at the end of the day and we'll figure it out."

Leaving her standing, there, shuddering, tears ready to fall from her eyes, he stops in the break room to pour a cup of coffee.

"Lucky fer you the client is a friend of Dale's but we'll see what he wants to do with ya."

Sure enough, in only five short months, she had done something so stupid, something that could have been so easily avoided that it had already cost her this job. Here was another way to prove to her father, to Maggie, that she actually wasn't capable of anything. Of holding down a legitimate job and living her life like a functioning adult. She'd have to go home with her tail between her legs and show everyone that she was the same timid, scatter brained farmer's daughter she'd always been.

Sitting down in her chair hard, the reality of the situation hits her. Just when things were beginning to level out, everything went to shit. Daryl was right. She was stupid. Spending so much time singing to herself, daydreaming about completely ridiculous situations, some of which involved her boss himself, had cost her job. Digging her fingers into her palms, she looks up through her tears, she feels Daryl's eyes on her. Looking at her like the child she knows she is. Stupid and naive, she mentally kicks herself for thinking he could ever look at her as anything but.

"You just gonna sulk about it, huh? Gonna sit there and cry? I haven't fired yer ass yet." He shakes his head, a scruffy laugh erupting from his upturned lips. In that moment she's not sure how she ever thought there was a tender bone in his body, seeing him be so cruel, so heartless.

Doubting all the work she had done for the past week, Beth looked through everything scrupulously, hunting for any typo and imperfections, coming up empty handed. Everything Dale had said to her about human error was true. She was the human error.

So lost in thought, she hadn't even heard Merle come in the door, heading towards the breakroom. "Why didn't ya get any normal creamer, blonde? Ya really think I wanna drink this shit? Smells like a candle."

"I'm sorry, Merle. I forgot, okay? I'll go out on my lunch break and get french vanilla."

"Yer slippin', kid. Guess you can't always get by on your looks, huh?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Batting yer eyes, comin' in here all dolled up every day like yer headed to sunday brunch with the queen of fuckin' England. You do it, all women do it."

"I don't do anything, Merle, I do my job." She slams the file cabinet closed, blood pumping in her head, her cheeks feeling hot, her chest tight with a bundle of untangleable knots.

After trying to clear her head on her lunch break, making sure to pick up Merle's stupid coffee creamer, she wondered what Daryl would say to her that afternoon. Chances were he'd dock her pay or put her on some sort of suspension, if not fire her completely. Maybe Merle had been right, maybe she had been too obvious when it came to her crush on him. The way he looked at her lit a fire deep in her belly with those quick glances, those little smirks, boiling, bubbling over until she thinks she's ready to burn up from the inside out. All of that had to be in her mind, one sided, completely unrequited. There was no way in hell he'd ever think of her as anything other than what she knew she was this whole time. A dumb little girl.

All of the attempts to try to keep herself together for all these months seemed worthless, unimportant. Looking down the road, at the donut shop and the dry cleaner, the post office across the street, everything became very surreal, as if time were standing still. The few people who were out and about walked by slowly, the air seeming to swish by them quickly, leaving Beth standing there clutching the grocery bag for dear life, worried she'd fall over.

This was how it had begun so many times before. The walls began closing in on her, inching her towards that place, those demons dragging her back to the comforting, never ending cycle of panic and relief, gnawing at her every cell, every nerve. Knowing her legs were guiding her back to the shop, but not feeling them move, her brain was on autopilot now, leading her to the only thing that could set her mind, take her back to reality.

Putting the creamer in the fridge, she looks around carefully to see what the rest of the shop is up to. Peeking her head out the window, she sees T-Dog and Morales huddled over the hood of a truck, arguing over something while Merle is snoozing in an old, beat up seat in the corner, hat covered his eyes. Sure that she has time to take care of things before anyone notices, she retrieves the small kit she'd hidden at the bottom of her purse in case of emergency. How ironic something most people would consider to be an emergency, a first aid kit would contain band aids, antiseptic, neosporin, all of those things. And sure, Beth's kit had that, but it also had a small pair of cuticle scissors, shiny, sharp and inviting. Along with that was an exacto knife and several blades, brand new in the box, calling her name with every fumble of the zipper.

Propping herself up on the side of the counter, searching for a spot on her leg, she choses one on her right thigh, admiring the pale skin there, several scars reminding her of days past. Gripping the exacto knife tightly between her fingers, she makes three experimental slices, savoring every line more than the last. Pressing down harder now, she goes for a fourth, a hum coming from her throat, imagining the relief flowing from her body like blood.

Closing her eyes, she feels the knots in her chest slowly start to loosen, letting her breath a little more easily for the first time since leaving the hospital. The second her lids flutter open, she sees Daryl standing there, empty coffee cup in hand, looking surprised and confused.

"Beth?"

Gasping, she drops everything, the sounds of metal hitting the tile floor. Using her hands to push herself up and propel herself forward, she makes a beeline for the door, practically running outside.

Unsure how long she had been outside, Beth musters the strength to open the front door, seeing nothing but the empty lobby, no one waiting for her. Taking off her cardigan and tying around her waist, she grimaces at the blood stains on her skirt, knowing good and well it was done for. If she hadn't done something stupid to cost her her job before, now she knew it was over.

There on the desk, in front of her typewriter sat the small zippered pouch. Daryl had picked everything up and put it back inside and then sat it on her desk. He knew everything. Absolutely, mortified, she tries to hold back her tears unsuccessfully, shaking her head and letting them all free off her chest. Dr. Edwards had told Beth time and time again that she was like a yo-yo, going back and forth, all over the place. Stopping, falling, looping around and making herself dizzy, only stopping for a second, but always catching herself. This was one of those times.

Trying to keep her mind off of the events of the day prior, she trudges on with her work, no sign of Daryl since the break room incident. Saying a silent prayer, she hopes he'll just call and tell her he's letting her go and that will be the end of that. There's no way in hell she'd even be able to begin to explain to him what he had seen. She was pretty sure there was no way he'd ever understand it either. Even if he didn't fire her, how could he ever look her in the eye again?

Waiting for everyone else to leave, she knew it was time to talk to Daryl

Knocking softly on the door, which she's surprised he has closed now, he mumbles for her to open it. Sitting in his chair, hands locked in front of him, settled on his lap, his expression is different now, nothing like this morning or after the break room. She can't place the expression but it makes her nervous.

"I'm so sorry, Daryl. I-"

He cuts her off, as if he was waiting to, his words like glass. "I don't know what makes ya think you can do shit like that here, Beth. I know I was an asshole but what if someone else had walked up? Dale? Or a fucking customer?"

Standing in front of his desk, she feels about a foot tall, wishing he'd squash her like a bug, turning his heavy work boots and working her into the ground until nothing else was left. If she could do it herself she would have. Wanting to close her eyes and imagine the feel of the gritty cement pressing into her cheek, she keeps looking forward at him.

"I know."

"Do you realize the shit you do doesn't just reflect you, huh? You represent this shop. Dale, Merle, me. When you fuck up like you did today, you make us all look bad." He gets up from his chair, his height making her feel like she's sinking, looking up at his angry eyes and sharp features.

"I wasn't thinking. It was stupid." She barely whispers, knowing if he weren't so close he'd never hear her otherwise.

"You're damn right it was stupid. You think you get to do that? I treat you shitty because iyou/i fucked up, so you turn around and take it out on yourself? I don't think so."

He's behind her now, looming, watching, calculating every move and every word that comes out of his angry, spiteful mouth, words like poison dripping off his tongue.

"Is that what you want, huh? Wanna be punished?"

"I don't know." Clenching her eyes shut, she can't believe what he's saying, surprised by every syllable, sure she'll wake up from this dream any second.

"You don't think that makes more sense? Why should you get to feel better when I'm still pissed the fuck off?"

"I don't feel better."

"Put your hands forward. On the desk." Letting out a shaky breath, the does what he says, placing her hands shoulder width apart. His breath is hot on the back of her neck, leaving her feeling claustrophobic, the darkness inside her ready to swallow them both in one swift motion.

If he hadn't told her to put her hands on the desk first, she knows she'd have fallen to her knees the second he touched her, shuddering, stifling a cry from the back of her throat. His hands are hard, rough and warm, even through the fabric of her skirt. Rubbing the palm of his hand against her ass, he gets a firm grip, squeezing almost painfully hard. The other hand trailing up her neck, into her hair, pulling it tightly, golden tendrils tangled in his fingers.

"You think you can make a fool of me, huh?" He growls in her ear, his way of asking for permission to go on. Nodding her head and licking her lips, she can't look towards him, afraid that he'll tell her to stand up and leave at any second. Taking a second to savor the handful, she hears him hiss before he pulls his palm back, coming down just as hard. Taking a second, third and fourth strike, his breath becomes deeper. Steadying himself next to her, hand moving from her hair to her wait to keep her grounded, she feels the tension in his body, rippling through his muscles.

Not used to the sensations flooding her mind, Beth begins to feel overwhelmed with emotion, every swat leaving her wanting more, eager for the next blow, hoping it will be harder than the last. Pressing his hand against her waist, he pushes her down further, spreading her legs out further.

Giving her other ass cheek the same treatment, she revels in the pain, the sweet, aching pain surging from her bottom, between her legs, a heat building there, scorching her from the inside out. Moving from her palms to her forearms, she gives him better access, hoping for something, anything harder and rougher than what he's giving her.

"I knew you'd like that, huh?" He chuckles to himself, fingers toying with the zipper of her skirt. "Ain't much with this on though."

Pulling it down, he slips his fingers into the elastic of her panties, sliding them down along with her skirt, leaving them around her ankles. The cold is shock to her exposed skin, kissing the inflamed skin there every so delicately.

"Holy shit." He breathes, making her feel suddenly self conscious with his eyes on her like this. When he goes to put a hand on her ass, she can't help but arch backwards in response, her body aching with need. Gripping her more tightly then, she can feel how hard he is, up against her hip, her head swimming with the idea of what lies beneath his coveralls.

"I got you, girl." He whispers into her neck, leaning in to kiss her there, his face rough and scratchy against her skin, the smell of coffee and cigarettes filling her lungs. They stay like that for a little while, thinking, their breaths becoming synchronized over time. Shifting against him, she prays for him to do something, say something.

Pulling back again, he goes to take good look at her, sighing at the sight before him. Bracing herself again, Beth waits in anticipation, the calm before the storm waiting to submerge her fully. Taking her ass in his hand again, he squeezes softly, lovingly even, at her flesh. Pulling back, he gives a gentle swat, watching her wince in pain, biting her lip. Increasing the intensity of each slap, she feels herself growing wetter, knowing he must be able to see the juices dripping between her legs.

Taking his time, he alternates between each cheek, seeming to favor the right for some reason, as that was where this all began. He stops to caress her again, fingers slowly delving deeper, teasing her in a way she hadn't realized she'd wanted since he started touching her there.

"You know how I know you needed this? Hmmm?" His thumb traces the outside of her pussy, rough, calloused fingers shocking her in comparison to her soft, wet skin. "You're fucking soaked."

Sliding his index fingers up and down her slit, she gasps loudly, unable to form any words to answer him. Completely lost in his touch, she can't make out anything else he's saying to her, only focused on his fingers between her legs.

"That wouldn't be punishment though, would it? If I just gave you what you wanted after you did what you did, huh?"

"No." She gulps, realizing this is the first time she's spoken since he bent her over the desk. "I guess not."

"Don't give me any more problems and we'll see what he can do about that." Peppering her neck and jaw with hard, rough kisses, he slips a finger up to her clit, just barely grazing it with the pad of his finger. Lips finally meeting hers fully for the first time, he kisses her hungrily, tongue greedily exploring every inch of her mouth while his fingers ghosting along the swollen nub between her legs.

"You're not gonna fire me?" She whispers back into his mouth as he pulls away from their embrace, pulling her panties back up carefully.

"Really, girl? You think I'm that much of a dick? Gonna fire ya after all that?"

Pulling her skirt up and zipping the zipper, she notices the oils stains covering the once dusty pink fabric, his hand prints made out clear as day, right next to the blood stains, her skirt telling a story of the day as it unfolded.

"I wasn't sure, honestly. I was thinking until I came in you'd already made up your mind."

He walks back over to the desk, reaching for his pack of cigarettes. Placing one in his mouth, he lights it, shaking his head and laughing softly. "Nah. Think I'll keep ya around for a while longer."

Unable to think or respond, she puts her hands on her cheeks, knowing they've got to be as red as her ass at the moment. Oddly enough, she did feel better. Even better than she had if he hadn't caught her, if he hadn't chased the demons away for her.

Slipping her cardigan back on, she goes to leave, unsure of what to say to him, her head feeling like television static.

"Beth?"

"Yeah?" She turns to face him, already halfway out the door.

"You don't gotta do that shit anymore. You got a problem, come to me so we can take care of it together."

Nodding her head and closing the door behind her, Beth is still in disbelief, telling herself to walk ahead, get her purse and go home. As soon as she steps outside the shop, the cool night air brings her back to reality, the beautifully, painful reminder stinging with every step she takes towards her car, silently thankful to Daryl for taking care of her in a way she never knew she'd needed. In a way she'd never known anyone could help her.


	11. Chapter 11

Standing in front of the mirror in her bedroom, fresh from the shower, Beth craned her neck to get a better look at her behind. Sure enough, he had left his mark. Red hand prints adorned her skin, some spots starting to form small blisters, little scabs across the broken skin. Shivering, she closed her eyes, trying to remember his touch, every pore in her body beginning to form into a goosebump, every little hair standing on end at the thought of Daryl Dixon's strong, sturdy hands holding her steady as he laid into her, knees shaking, body pulsating with pleasure.

It still didn't feel real. The couple hours prior felt like a haze. On the drive home she felt as if she were flying, head in the clouds, any and all worries left at the shop in his office. For the first time in as long as she could remember, Beth felt free. Not that mixture of heavy and light, dragging her body down and lifting her mind, ripping her in two, splitting her apart like a paper doll cut right in half. In fact, she hadn't ever felt this sense of relief before.

Bringing her shaking hands to her face, she let out a deep breath, swearing she could still smell him with every exhale. He had infiltrated her mind, slipping and weaving his way around her brain, like a vine wrapping and reaching deeper, grounding roots as far as possible. Beth was sure that if she let them grow, the next time she saw him, flowers out bloom and if he looked into her eyes, maybe he could see them too.

Opening the shop and settling into her morning routine, Beth gets the first pot of coffee ready, humming to herself softly. Hearing the front door open, she sucked in a breath, knowing from the footsteps it was Daryl. He wasn't late today, on the dot exactly.

"Hey." He stops at the doorway, one arm leaning on the doorframe. Still wearing his sunglasses and jacket, she can't tell by looking at him if he's happy to see her or not, but that tension, that electricity was still there, sparks igniting with every passing second.

"Mornin'."

"You get home alright last night? Shoulda walked ya to your car."

Chewing on the corner of his thumb, he shifts his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

"I got home fine, thanks for asking though. It's sweet of you."

"Yeah, well. Don't think nothing of it."

"I think a lot of it, actually. Thank you." Looking at up him shyly, through fluttering lashes, she's afraid she'll scare him away.

"We gotta take care of each other, right?"

Nodding her head, she pours his two sugars into his Garfield mug, followed by piping hot dark roast. Turning to hand it to him, he takes a step closer to her, their hands touching.

Pulling his sunglasses down he looks her dead in the eyes. "Just don't be so damn hard on yourself and I won't be such an asshole, alright?"

Smiling back at him brightly, she laughs softly. "Sounds like a good deal to me."

The corner of his mouth curls, showing a small sliver of teeth, standing there for a second in silence, just watching each other, they relish the moment, the secret between the two of them new and unfamiliar but exciting all the same.

Getting back to work, she walks over to her desk with her own mug, puzzled to see a plastic bag sitting there. Unwrapping it, inside Beth finds the radio Daryl had promised her before.

"Hey, blondie. Ya got my coffee creamer?"

"Yep. In the fridge."

Merle comes up from the garage for his first cup of the day, dark bags under his eyes. Beth can tell solely from the look on his face that he'd been drinking the night before. Generally most mornings Merle looked like this, but on this particular morning he looked especially bad.

"Jeez, Merle. Sure you don't want some tea or somethin' instead? I can practically smell the booze on you."

"Nah, I might have been a little drunk still when I woke up this morning." Chuckling, he rummages through the break room fridge. "How come ya didn't get any of those girly flavors? Ain't pregnant are ya?"

Beth laughs out loud, covering her mouth, quickly in embarrassment, realizing Daryl's office door was open. "No, I'm not pregnant. I just don't drink as much coffee as you do. Kind of seemed like a waste buying a whole bottle all for myself."

"That pumpkin one was god awful. Tasted like eating a handful of potpourri. Can't stand that shit." He takes a large gulp from his mug. "Cinnamon one ain't so bad though, I guess."

"So you're the only Dixon with a sweet tooth then?"

"Nah, Daryl used to love that shit when he was younger. One time, a girlfriend of mine at the time, she had this kid, we got so shitfaced and ate all her Halloween candy. Could have swore baby brother was puking for days after that."

His laughter cackles down the hallway, causing Daryl to emerge from his office, already wearing the expression Beth knew to be his 'already-fed-up-with-Merle's-bullshit' face. "Rule of thumb, Greene, twix and tequila don't mix."

"They weren't twix, they were kit kats, ya dumb ass."

"Whatever it was, you were three sheets to the wind, puking in the bushes. Ya should have seen the trick or treaters faces when they came to the porch and there was Daryl, sick as a dog." Merle slaps his hand on his knee, his laughter bellowing through the break room.

Daryl's face turns red, his usual scowl amplified by his embarrassment.

"That's nothing. When I was fifteen, my sister took me with her and some of her friends one weekend, we were drinking Jameson on the roof of an abandoned building. I'd never had whiskey before and I passed out. They had to get me off the roof and everything." She grins at her story, proud to match something as wild as Merle and Daryl's tales.

"Damn, blondie! I never would have thought ya had it in ya!"

"My sister dropped me off at home, locked me in my room with a bucket. Thank god my parents were away for the weekend otherwise my Daddy would have killed me."

She goes on as Daryl watches her, an amused grin on his lips. "Of course I got sick everywhere but the bucket and my brother, Shawn, had to pick the lock on the bedroom door to get me out. Cleaned up every drop and blackmailed me for a whole month afterwards."

"So much for a timid little church mouse, eh Merle?" Daryl smirks, moving from his place by the counter to walk back to his office.

"Guess so. Looks like holiday parties are gonna be more fun now that we've got this one working here," Merle smirks at Beth, impressed by her story.

"I don't really drink anything hard after that. Kind of turned me off of alcohol, you know?"

Merle laughs. "That's whiskey for ya, kid. It'll do that from time to time." He downs the rest of his coffee, leaving it in the sink and heading back down to the shop downstairs.

Daryl lingers in the doorway, watching Beth wash up the cups. Feeling his eyes on her is unlike anything she's ever experienced. His gaze is hesitant but steady, as if she can feel his retinas tracing every curve of her body. Trying to keep the small smile on her lips from busting into a full on grin, she peeks at him through bent lashes.

The look on his face is pensive and thoughtful, timid yet shy. Different from how he had been the night before.

"Thank you for the radio, Daryl. It was really sweet." Turning around, she leans up against the sink, pushing her sleeves up to her elbows. "I can't apologize enough for the bill. I should really give Dale a call, I-"

He cuts her off. "I shouldn't have talked to ya like that. Wasn't right. Everybody fucks up." Biting his thumbnail he continues, "Don't worry about Dale. Everything is smoothed over."

"I promise it won't happen again."

"Guess ya learned yer lesson then." He smirks and turns away, walking back to his office.

Later on her lunch break, Beth checks her phone to find new messages from Maggie and Zach. Zach. She had been so swept up in everything that had happened with Daryl she hadn't even thought about him. Prior to that night she had been putting off plans with him due to being so busy and exhausted but now she felt guilty for stringing him along.

Come over tonight. Glenn is bringing home dinner and Zach is coming with him.

Beth groaned knowing that she would have to deal with this eventually. Sure she and Zach hadn't defined whatever it was between them. They had only been on a handful of dates but still spoke every few days. He would send her good morning texts and songs he thought she'd like. He was cute, he was a nice person and they had some things in common most definitely but it was nothing compared to what she felt for Daryl. In fact, it felt as if that deep-seated crush had consumed and dominated her senses within the moment she's felt his skin on hers.

Maybe she had just been putting her feelings for Daryl off on Zach, thinking they would be unrequited but after the incident in his office, she wasn't sure what to think.

"I can't believe he's got you typing all that up without a computer. How old is this guy, Bethy?" Maggie asks her, going through her closet giving Beth things she never wore anymore.

"Probably Daddy's age. Keeps telling me he cares more about 'human error' than computers or something."

"I'll never understand that generation. The more we grow up, the crazier they seem."

Maggie handed her a blouse that was likely to swim on her, being nowhere nearly as ample-bosomed as her sister. She threw it on the bed away from the pile of clothes she had liked.

It had been something Beth was self conscious about since puberty, Jimmy always pushing her breasts together as if he was trying to make them bigger. She wondered if it was something that Daryl thought about or if he had thought the same thing the night before.

"So, have you and Zach been spending much time together?"

"Not really. I've been pretty busy with work the past couple of weeks. The taxes and everything."

"Beth, you gotta make time! You can't just expect to see him randomly, whenever! You gotta try a little harder than that."

Beth scowled at her sister, turning away from her to fold the pile of clothes on the bed.

"How many times do I have to tell you he's not my boyfriend? You're worse than Daddy sometimes, Maggie. You think if you say something enough times it will suddenly drill into my head or something."

"I'm just trying to help you, Beth. It's obvious you're just nervous and it's been a long time since you've had a boyfriend. Those nerves will go away."

Shrugging Maggie off, she goes into the bathroom to change for dinner. Stripping off her clothes, she admires the bruises on her hips, their colors changing from deep purples to rich greens and golden yellows. There on her hip, she notices fingerprints from his hand holding her in place. A blush running over her, Beth imagines Daryl there, standing behind her, running his fingers over her body. Opening her eyes, she notices something there she hasn't seen before. A mix between lust and strength, her body looking stronger and most confident somehow. Daryl had done that, made her feel that with just his touch.

It didn't matter how much Maggie pestered her about Zach. Regardless of what Daryl felt for her, there was nothing between she and Zach compared to what she felt for Daryl.

As no surprise to either of them, Glenn brought home pizza. At least he had brought a salad this time, knowing Beth would glare at him if he didn't. To say he was predictable was an understatement.

"Hey." Zach goes into hug Beth, coming in the door behind Glenn.

"Hi." She smiles at him softly, already feeling so awkward and unsure of herself. It had been a couple of weeks since she'd last seen him and she wasn't exactly sure how to approach the situation.

"How have you been? How's work?" He closes the door behind him and takes off his coat, eyes still on Beth.

"Um, good. Just really busy. Working on taxes so it's been pretty exhausting."

"Glenn said the old bat has you doing everything on a typewriter?" He walks over to the kitchen where Maggie and Glenn are pulling out paper plates for dinner, taking a beer Glenn offers him.

"Yeah, he's kind of old school like that."

"Beer?" He holds the bottle out to her.

"No, thanks."

Trying to busy herself, she goes over to the table where Maggie is, taking a bottle of ranch dressing out of the fridge and sitting down at the table.

"Have you been working on any lyrics recently?" he asked eagerly.

She had completely forgotten about the song she'd started writing when she and Zach had first met, throwing herself head first into work and her infatuation with Daryl.

"Uh, no not really. Been way too busy."

"Well, once you're done with all this extra work, we should go see a movie or something."

"Yeah, okay." Beth forces a smile awkwardly.

The rest of the night consists of Glenn and Zach talking about work while Maggie and Beth had their own conversation, occasionally making awkward small talk with Zach. Whatever had been between them was gone now, Beth knew she felt nothing for him but telling him that very night was not going to be possible.

After dinner when he offered to take her out for coffee the following afternoon, she obliged if only to make plans to break up with him then and there.

Eager to get to work the next morning and rid her mind of the previous night's events, Beth arrives a few minutes earlier than usual. Getting everything together to start the day, she gives herself a moment to take everything in. She had already come a long way since the hospital, that much was obvious. There was something inside her, a confidence building that hadn't been there before. The strength to stand up for herself, to be her own person. Without Maggie or her father's judgements. Being there, working there, Beth had already taken control of life.

A few moments later Daryl arrives, sleepy grin as usual. It's still dark out and when the front door opens, he brings the cold air with him. The crisp air wakes her up, straightening her back, dilating her pupils. Everything about him brought all her sense to the surface, perking up and standing guard every time his presence was made. Almost as if her body was instinctively ready for anything he had to offer her, bracing itself.

"Mornin," he mumbles, taking off his jacket and hanging it in on the coat rack.

"Good morning."

"Whatcha gettin' into today, girl?"

"Same old, same old."

"Same shit different day, huh?"

She nods her head, smiling up at him from her chair.

"You could definitely say that."

He takes a step forward, leaning down to cup her face with one hand, kissing her lips gently. Rubbing her cheek with his hand, he pulls away.

"What was that for?"

"Ain't nobody around yet." He shrugs his shoulders. "Thought I'd take advantage."

Going in for another kiss, he snakes and hand down the small of her back, sending goosebumps throughout her entire body.

"You sure that's a good idea? What if somebody walked in?"

"Mmm, it's early still, just wanted to say good morning." He flashes that mischievous grin, knowing good and well he's already got her wrapped around his finger. His eyes are so dark this morning, so hazy that she can barely make out the blue from his black pupil.

Pulling her chair just a little closer, he kisses her deeply everything else begins to melt away.

"I just don't want to get in trouble," she whispers when he pulls back.

"Girl, the only person you gotta worry about bein' in trouble with is me." Giving her wrist a tight squeeze, he steps back and heads to his office.


	12. Chapter 12

Mustering all the strength she had, Beth rounded the corner to the coffee shop. She was determined to break up with Zach that night. It wasn't as if she had much experience burning bridges with someone before but considering they had barely even been dating, Beth was hopeful he wouldn't be too upset. If anything she had hoped the distance she'd created in the weeks prior would make him see that things between them wouldn't work out.

She sees him sitting inside the coffee shop from outside, scrolling through his phone, one earbud in his left ear. Zach was cute, there was no denying that. It wasn't that he wasn't a nice person or they weren't compatible but now that things had happened the way they had between she and Daryl, it didn't feel right to string him along. Not that she knew what was going on with Daryl. He himself was a mystery to her, but as long as she got to keep him in her life, Beth didn't care if it was never defined. She'd be happy to swim in this strange, electric limbo with him forever.

"Hey!" He smiles at her, getting up from his chair to give her a quick hug.

"Hi, Zach." She smiles softly, barely putting her arms around him to reciprocate the hug.

"Can I get you a coffee?"

"No, I'm fine. I actually can't make the movie tonight." His face falls, the smile disappearing from his lips. "You know, work early in the morning tomorrow."

"Yeah, I understand. Let me buy you a tea, at least?"

"Okay." She sits back down in her seat as he gets up to order her a hot tea.

This wasn't going to be easy. Beth's anxiety were starting to get the better of her. How did Maggie and so many other women do this so easily? She felt like a bundle of nerves.

When he comes back they make small talk about music for a while, Beth nodding her head as he goes on and on about some concert he went to a couple nights prior. Being with Zach didn't really feel like _being_ with anyone, it was just as if she was there. The words came out of his mouth and she responded, but she didn't feel herself taking anything from it. Every word was a chance to get out of there, to rip off the band aid and expose the wound to the fresh air.

Gripping the mug tightly, she lets the hot ceramic scald her skin, sending goose bumps up her arm. The heat is a shock to her system, not having experienced the pleasure of pain since that night with Daryl. If Zach couldn't see her mind was elsewhere, he was even more dull than she had originally given him credit for. She may have been there physically, but there was no part of Beth Greene that was there that night emotionally. She'd already checked out, lost herself in the hands of man she'd never be able to wrap her head around.

"Beth?"

Zach stares at her blankly, having just asked her a question. Snapping back to reality, she meets his gaze.

"What? I'm sorry, I'm exhausted." Taking a sip of her drink, she tries to recall the last thing he said.

"I asked you if you wanted to come to the next show with me. It's next month."

This was her chance to make her exit, her chance to break things off fully.

"Um, I'm not sure I'll be able to. I don't really have a whole lot of free time anymore, you know?"

He shrugs his shoulders, obviously not getting the point. "You work during the day, right? This is at night."

"Sometimes I work evenings. I just have a lot on my plate right now, you know?"

"I understand. Maybe next time?"

The knots in her stomach were beginning to tighten as the words in her throat tried to come up for air, tried to crawl out her throat and escape, but they stayed dormant.

"I don't think so, Zach. I'm kind of seeing someone else." Looking down quickly, she averts his gaze.

It wasn't actually true, but it wasn't a lie either. One spanking and a kiss in secret wasn't exactly something to define a relationship by but it was better than nothing.

"Oh, okay." He sounded sad, but not completely heart broken. "Yeah, I understand. Is it someone from work or?"

"Um, kind of." She didn't feel comfortable disclosing any information knowing it would go right from him to Glenn to Maggie.

"For how long?"

"It's not really something that has been defined but, I have feelings for someone else. I didn't want to lead you on or give you the wrong idea."

"It's okay. I understand."

Beth feels a little relieved, still very strange and completely bare now that her secret is almost fully out in the open. It was only a matter of time before word got to Maggie. Unsure of what to say next, she takes another sip of her drink.

"I hope you still want to be friends after this. You're a really interesting girl, Beth. I'd hate to lose our friendship because of this."

For years Maggie had given her detailed descriptions of the boys she'd dumped who'd wanted to remain friends. They'd always call and hang out around the house when she didn't want them around, pushing Shawn and Beth to make excuses for her. This wasn't something she wanted to get herself into. Especially not if things did and could move forward with Daryl. She needed a clean slate.

She nods her head in agreement, not sure how to tell him she doubted her boss and possible lover would be okay with the idea of them being friends. Daryl would likely take one look at Zach and laugh.

"He's a lucky guy, you know." He casts her a sideways smile, looking sad but somehow sweet.

Feeling fresh and free of her burdens, Beth laid down on her bed that night, jacket and boots still on. She was too excited with the idea of having everything with Zach behind her, the possible future with Daryl on the horizon. That was the thing about Daryl, she had no idea if he had any intention of wanting a relationship with her, but it didn't matter. He was worth the risk, worth the heart ache.

The next evening at work, she hears his heavy work boots coming up the stairs and her heartbeat speeds up, her pulse beating in her throat. He walks up behind her, wiping the oil off his hands with his dirty red bandana.

"Still workin' on those damn taxes?" He mumbles, looking over her shoulder at the typewriter.

"Yeah, I'm almost done. My wrists are killing me." She stops to bring her right hand to her wrist, wincing at the discomfort. "Probably gonna take a little break."

"Wanna come down to the garage? Keep me company?" The way he says it is so cautious, more like a suggestion than a question. If Dr. Edwards had ever met Daryl, he would say he was the textbook definition of a yo-yo. Going back and forth between shy yet playful, to passionate and sometimes angry.

Beth was coming to realize that everything about Daryl was that way. Sharp yet somehow velvety and rich with emotion, no word ever coming out of his mouth that wasn't carefully calculated. She liked that about him although it made him hard to read at times.

"Okay." Getting up from her desk she slips on her sweater, knowing it would most likely be cold downstairs.

Following him to the garage, he motions towards the seat she had seen Merle nap in the other day. Only having been down there a handful of times, she took it all in, looking around. It looked like a standard garage to her for the most part, not that Beth knew much about cars.

Daryl sat down on a bench across from her, pack of cigarettes in hand. Putting one between his lips, he lights it, inhaling deeply.

"How's the custom piece coming along?"

He shrugs. "It's gettin' there. This guy is a real pain in my ass though. He's never satisfied. I like workin' on motorcycles, don't get me wrong. It's something different but every year or so this client decides he's tired of this bike I've just spent the past year customizing, so he sells it and gets a new one. Same shit all over again."

"Why don't you tell him you're tired of it?"

"Cause it's good money. Don't know how to tell him how when he keeps throwin' the work at me like that."

"Makes sense, I guess." She shifts in the uncomfortable seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs to try to get more relaxed. Not that she can with Daryl looking at her like he's ready to pounce on her at any second.

"You cold?"

"I'm okay. It's a little drafty down here I guess."

Putting the cigarette out in the ashtray, he gets up and retrieves an old woven mexican blanket from one of the cabinets.

"C'mere." He motions for her to get up, setting down in the chair himself and pulling her into his lap after wrapping the blanket around them.

"Better?"

Feeling his warmth consume her, she melts into him, the nervousness dissipating from her mind.

"Mmmhmm, much better." She shifts on his lap to nuzzle a little closer.

"The bruises on yer ass healin'?" He mumbles into her hair, sending a chill up her spine at the mention of his hands on her.

"They're still purple but they're healing."

"Yeah?"

His hands shift from her waist past her hips, pushing up the material of her dress, sliding right into the back of her panties. Giving a firm squeeze, she presses her body against him in response, reveling in the sensitivity of her healing skin.

"I think ya been a good girl, don't you?" Daryl takes his other hand pulling down the sleeve of her dress to kiss her shoulder.

"Mmm, I hope so." She breathes out softly, feeling her body temperature rise under the blanket. Between Daryl's hot breath on her skin and his hands on her ass, she was pretty sure they wouldn't need it much longer.

Digging his hands deeper into her, he kisses her lips fully, tongue snaking into her mouth hungrily. Deciding to abandon the blanket, he flips her over on his lap face down, stopping to pull her panties off first.

"Oh fuck," he hisses, running his hands over her ass, cupping each cheek gently with his palm. "Really did a number on ya, didn't I?"

Consumed by need, by want for his touch, Beth lets out a soft whimper. "Uh huh."

"Marked yer sweet little ass up good. Ya like that didn't ya, baby doll?"

"Yes." She whispers, pushing up to trying to get up to touch her fully again.

"Ya gotta do better than that. Answer me when I talk to you."

Nodding her head, she gulps. "Yes. I liked it a lot."

"Good."

He runs his fingers over the healing welts, watching her face as he goes over each one agonizingly slow. Tracing her body, from her hips, to her asscheek, he memorizes every piece over her. She feels her body relaxing slowly, his calloused fingers putting her at ease.

"Good girl."

Bringing his hand to the bottom of her ass cheek, fingers teasing over her pussy, he strokes the hair there, parting slightly to gather moisture from her folds. Beth gasps at his touch, arching backward. His other hand holds her steady on his lap.

"Fuck. How are you this wet and I ain't even barely touched you yet?"

"I don't know." She thinks she whispers, unsure if she just thought it.

He pulls his fingers out of her, settling back on her ass. Squeezing again with great vigor, he pulls back a hand to spank her fully. The sting of the first blow leaves her in ecstasy.

"Did ya go home and touch yourself that first night? Hmm?" His voice is stern and shrill, clear in her head but she feels herself having to think of every response carefully, worried the words won't come out at all.

"No, I-I didn't."

"No? Wanted me to do it fer ya? Knew you couldn't make yourself come like I'd be able to?"

He pulls his hand back, spanking her again with force. If he hadn't been holding her in place, she feels like she'd fly forward. That's actually what she thinks flying must feel like. She knows she's safe, he's got her, but she is weightless.

"Hmm? Didn't think ya could?"

She shakes her head. "No, no. I-I didn't think about it. I was surprised."

Suddenly, he pulls her arms behind her, securing both her small wrists in his palm. Going back to work on her ass, she can feel how hard he is against her stomach, the thought of his cock pressing against his jeans leaving an even deeper want inside of her.

"What were ya surprised for, huh? Didn't think I wanted ya the second you walked in the door?"

"No, I had hoped but I wasn't sure." She whispers, gasping for breath, completely lost in his touch.

"Well, now ya know I want ya, huh?"

"Yes." She hisses as he stops to squeeze the red, swollen flesh before him.

He lets out a shaky breath, pulling her up on her feet. Feeling completely numb in her legs, Beth struggles to get up, his strong hands guiding her. Sitting her facing away from him, her back against his chest, he sucks on her earlobe, fingers caressing over her chest.

"Mmm, I wanna take this off but I know yer cold, baby doll."

Between the excitement of being there with Daryl, so close to everything she'd ever could have hoped for in her wildest dreams, the last thing she's worried about is not being warm enough. Peeling off her sweater and shimming out of the top of her dress, she raises her hips to pull it down off her legs.

"I'm okay. You're keeping me plenty warm." Turning back to give him a soft smile, she plants a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

He takes the blanket from the ground, covering her anyways. Going back to exploring, Daryl sucks on her neck, trailing down to her collar bone, stopping to bite every so often. Hooking a finger to the front of her bra, he finds her nipple, rolling it around between his fingers.

Gasping in pleasure, Beth arches back pushing her already sore ass up against the rough material of his dirty jeans, the strain of his hard cock teasing her.

"Fuck, the things I wanna do to you, girl. Drivin' me crazy."

"What do you want to do?" She breaths, eyes lidded heavy with desire. One hand in his hair, the other on his knee, Beth's fingers start moving towards her hips.

"Wanna tie ya up. Shove yer panties in yer mouth and fuck ya so ya won't be walkin' straight fer a week." He growls, pulling her hand away before she can reach her destination.

"That ain't fer you. That's _all_ mine, girl. Unless I tell ya otherwise."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Already told ya you been a good girl. Ain't gonna let ya go home unsatisfied, don't worry about that."

Pulling her arms to her side, he spreads her legs apart, kicking the blanket off to fully expose her. Starting at her entrance, he traces her carefully, gathering the wetness there to distribute it evenly over her pussy, smoothing his fingers over her slit slowly. Repeating his several times, Beth struggles to keep her moans back, wanting to explode. He must feel the tension in her body because he immediately makes it known.

"Enjoy this, baby girl. Don't gotta be so tense when yer here with me. I got you."

Nodding her head, she tries to relax against him, laying her head back. Teasing her clit, he brushes over it with the pad of his finger, making small circles, testing her reaction. She bucks her lips in response, biting her lip and clenching her eyes shut tight. He moves a little more quickly now, sometimes stopping in the opposite direction, she feels her orgasm building inside her.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me, Beth." That's the first time he's said her name since he's had her in his arms like this and it sounds so different from before. Like when it's coming off his lips like this, it's all for her.

" _Daryl_ ," she breathes heavily, worried if she doesn't say anything at all he'll stop moving. She wants to be good for him, wants to follow his rules.

Pumping his finger inside her suddenly before thrusting it deeper, she tightens around him, arching her body back against him again and again, bucking her hips.

"Mmmm." He laughs a little, surprising her. She looks back at him, worried she's done something wrong. "So fuckin' tight too. You ain't a virgin?"

His hands keep working, his thumb on her clit now. Adding a second digit, she shudders, falling back.

"Are you a virgin?" He asks again.

"No." She breathes out hotly, not wanting to tell him that she's not a virgin but might as well be because she is inexperienced.

"I just wanna take care of ya, girl. Don't wanna hurt ya if you are."

Shaking her head, she turns back to kiss him, sweat and dirt lingering on his lips. Deepening the kiss, tongues exploring and conquering, hungry for more.

"No, I'm not a virgin. I just haven't, you know, all that many times."

"Fucked?" He laughs at her, being so modest while he's got his fingers inside her.

"Yeah."

"We ain't gonna do that tonight, baby. Not yet. Wanna enjoy this."

"Okay."

Curling his two fingers inside her deeper, he increases the pressure on her clit, the swollen bud slipping through his fingers with every desperate movement, every swipe bringing her closer to the edge.

"But next time," he growls, "next time I'm gonna fuck you. Gotta get ya real nice and wet like ya are now and I'll tie ya up, like I said."

She nods her head, pressing her ass against his cock again, wishing she could feel him hard and soft all at once.

"Ya gotta be patient." As he starts to move faster, his hand at her breast sure to be bruising her, nipples purple at this point. "Soon enough, sweetheart."

She rides out her orgasm into his hand, bucking her hips, completely lost in the spell that he's cast for her so perfectly. He keeps moving his fingers after she's stopped bucking, the aftershock flowing from her toes through every cell, every pore. As it finally begins to fade, he pulls his hand out slowly, stopping to grip her hip with his sticky fingers. They sit there for a while in silence, both enjoying the warmth from one another's bodies.

Beth clears her throat, unable to taste anything other than Daryl. She's pretty sure she'd die happy if it tasted this way for the rest of her life. He plants a soft kiss on her shoulder, lips smoothing over a spot where he had bit her earlier, a good sized bruise forming.

"Mmmmm." Beth hums, letting out a deep breath.

"See what happens when you're good?" She can feel his smile on her skin, followed by a little chuckle.

"Gonna be on my best behavior from now on, I promise."

He lifts his knees, urging her to get up. Wrapping the blanket back around her, she sits back in the armchair, not bothering with her clothes yet.

"Ya sure ya ain't a virgin?" He goes back to the half smoked cigarette, lighting it again and taking a seat back on the stool.

"No. I'm just inexperienced, I guess." A blush comes across her cheeks, thinking back to the few awkward sexual experiences she'd had with Jimmy in high school. Since then, she hadn't been with anyone else.

"Ain't a big deal. Yer just tight is all." He says it so nonchalantly, like the sky is blue or grass is green.

"I'm sorry I didn't know."

He laughs at her again, looking at her like she's just said the funniest thing he's ever heard.

"Believe me, it ain't a bad thing."

After he finishes his cigarette, he gets up and comes back over to her, picking her clothes up off the ground. Helping her into her panties and pulling her dress over her head, Daryl makes her feel so safe, so protected. When he touches her like this it's like he's touching delicate glass, careful she'll break at any second. It's such a stark contrast to the force of his grip only moments before.

He kisses her softly, pulling back to place his forehead against hers. Beth can't help but smile, feeling so close to him like this. It was so different from anything she'd ever experienced before. Daryl was so different from anyone she'd ever known.

This time she waits for him as he locks up the shop, turning the lights off and locking the garage doors. Walking her to her car, he opens to door. When she gets inside, he kisses her like he's saying goodbye, like she's the most precious thing she's ever seen and it's strange. Like he's burning up inside just the way she had been before, ready to boil over at any second.

"Drive safe, okay?" He mumbles hazily as he pulls away from her.

"I will." She nods her head as he closes the door.

He stands next to his bike, watching her as she drives away from the auto shop.


	13. Chapter 13

"Hey." He growls in her ear, making every tiny strand of peach fuzz stand on end, the back of her neck prickly like a cactus.

"Hey, yourself." Beth smiles coyly back at him as he stands back, hands in the pockets of his coveralls.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing." She shrugs her shoulders, still holding back a grin.

"Nothin', huh?"

"Goin' home after work, I don't know." Beth gives him a nervous smile, unsure of what he wants from her.

"Well, if ya ain't doin' anythin', you should come over to my place," he says, not looking at her directly, possibly worried about the outcome.

It's strange to her how Daryl can be so direct, so aggressive with her, but only if given permission. As if he needs to know every time that it's okay with her, worried he'll scare her away. Little did he know, she was the one worried about scaring him away.

"Your place?"

"Ya, my place," his eyes flash up to hers, dark, deep blue, "my place."

"Okay."

"Can't keep fuckin' around here can we?"

He's directly behind her now, his fingers ghosting along her neck, the spot behind her ears, her collar bone. Arriving to work early and leaving late had become a routine for them, any excuse to be around each other alone for any stretch of time. These stolen moments meant more to her than anything. Cold mornings when the sun hadn't even come up yet, Daryl's face freezing cold from his ride over on the bike, fingers equally frostbitten.

They'd hurry into the shop, Beth giggling as he thrust his icy cold hands into her coat, soaking up any warmth her tiny body could offer him. There was no doubt in her mind she was utterly, completely, head first in lust with Daryl Dixon. Something inside her couldn't bring herself to address it as anything other than lust, knowing better than to jump into something so emotionally messy with someone she definitely shouldn't be in a relationship with. Especially her boss.

But in those moments, those early mornings. None of that mattered anymore.

In the evenings she'd busy herself at her desk, watching carefully out of her eye as everyone left, one by one. T-Dogg and Morales usually heading out first, followed by Merle. She tried not to show her eagerness, she so badly wanted to wait for him to come to her, to call her into his office like he had before, but Daryl could see right through that. He knew she was just as ready for their time alone together as he was. This unspoken agreement had become so normal, so natural, it went without question the same way every day.

 _At least with a cup of coffee in hand, she didn't feel completely desperate, trying to hide the excitement swelling inside of her as she got closer to his office._

" _You don't gotta come in here with an excuse, ya know," he smiled at her mischievously, taking her cup from her hand. "Everybody gone?" Taking a sip he sets it down on the desk, placing his hands around Beth's waist to bring her to his lap._

" _Yeah, Merle just left."_

 _He sighs against her hair, nuzzling his lips against her jaw, the scruff of his beard clashing against the porcelain of her skin._

" _You sound tired," she says softly, her body melting into the warmth of his rigid heat, already pressing up against the back of her dress._

" _Yeah, well, I am," he lets out a heavy breath, cigarettes and coffee lingering behind the smell of oil and sweat._

" _Want me to give ya a back rub or somethin'?" She turns to face him, slipping off her shoes in the process, now straddling his waist._

" _Er somethin," he growls back, his eyes filled with lust and mischief._

" _What do you mean?" Beth plays with the front of his coveralls, tracing the buttons with her fingers._

" _I think ya know what I mean, baby doll."_

" _Oh," she sighs, her face instantly turning bright red._

" _Yeah." He tightens his grip on her waist, fingers traveling to the bottom of her dress, desperate to touch anything other than the fabric that hid her alabaster skin._

" _I-I haven't really done that all that many times. I'm not sure I'd be any good at it, you know?" She barely whispers, looking down at his chest._

 _Daryl brings his forehead to meet hers, hands moving up the back of her dress, delicately caressing the space between her shoulder blades._

" _Hey, look at me," he whispers tenderly but in a stern tone, causing her to stiffen her back a little bit, "you really think I ain't gonna love anything you do to me?"_

" _No," she laughs a little, leaning in to kiss his lips, still feeling a little shy about the whole thing._

 _He pulls back from the kiss for a second, fumbling with the hooks of her bra beneath her dress. Releasing her from it and pulling down the top portion of her dress, he leans down to kiss her chest. First between her breasts, slowly caressing her skin with his lips, lovingly sucking on each nipple, hungrily taking the bud between his two front teeth._

 _His breath his hot against her skin, flushing her entire body a soft pink. Digging her hands into his scalp, she breathes heavily, eyes lidded with desire, insecurities melting away under his touch._

" _Good girl, try to relax for me, okay?"_

 _She nods her head, gulping hard. "Okay."_

 _Pulling her into another needy kiss, his tongue explores her mouth, eager to express his want for her in any way her can. His need for her enveloping his thoughts, wanting nothing but to make her his own any chance, any opportunity he's given. Daryl's hand snakes between her legs, pulling the soaked cotton material of her panties to the side, her body writhing in anticipation._

" _Oh, fuck," he hisses, as if he's surprised every time he finds this gift between her legs, waiting for him so patiently for him to discover it._

" _Mmm," she hums, bucking against his hand, fingers circling her clit with vigor._

" _You gonna do this for me, baby doll, hmmm?" His other hand comes up to her face, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, her face already wet with sweat._

" _I don't know what to do," she confesses, knowing she has no secrets to hide from him._

" _I'm gonna show you how," he growls, putting his hand to her mouth, inserting two fingers, allowing her to suck for a few moments. He takes the moisture from her mouth, bringing it to her already drenched pussy. "I know how much you love this, huh? You gotta return the favor for me, baby girl."_

 _She nods her head, trying to keep her breathing steady and her balance on his lap, ready to topple over at any moment._

" _Yeah?" he asks again, unsatisfied with her for not answering back._

" _Yeah. You're right."_

" _Good girl. There's nothin' to be scared of. You're gonna do so good."_

 _He dips a finger down to her center, pulling in and out vigorously, then going back to her clit, sliding down, back and forth._

" _Ahh, fuck, Daryl, I-I," she stammers, trying to keep her composure._

" _You gonna do this? Cause if ya ain't, I'm gonna stop right now."_

" _No, I said, I said I would," she responds back quickly, afraid that he'll stop._

" _I know yer close too, I can feel it." He chuckles, adding a second finger, causing her to gasp. "Ya gonna be good fer me, huh? Do what I say?"_

" _Yes," she sighs, his fingers beckoning her closer to orgasm by the second, the fabric of his coveralls soaking in her juices, his cock straining through his pants._

" _Yes, what?"_

" _Yes, Daryl."_

" _Good girl."_

 _Curling two fingers deep inside of her, he works more quickly, knowing exactly where to hit the spot inside that drove her crazy. His thumb circling her clit, tongue alternating from her mouth to her chest, Daryl knows that she's close._

" _That's right, baby girl. I'm the only one who can do this for you, hmm?" He whispers into her chest as she arches her back against him, entire body shaking, eyes rolling back in her head. Totally, completely lost in the ecstasy of his touch, Beth rides through the recoil, taking everything he's given her, coming back to reality slowly._

" _Oh, fuck," she laughs softly, her face completely glowing with satisfaction._

" _Don't think I've ever heard ya cuss," he laughs, pulling her off his lap to undo his coveralls._

 _Suddenly they're both a little nervous with this uncharted territory, Beth having been the only one full naked in the entire time they'd been fooling around._

 _He shimmies out of his coveralls, keeping his eyes on her as she watches him intently. Underneath he's got on an old threadbare cotton wife beater that he peels off next. His skin is the same color as the rest of his body, his chest peppered with hairs, a name tattooed above his heart, worn with age._

 _Getting to the bottom half of his body, he braces himself, freeing his erection, no underwear in sight. Beth is immediately taken back by his size, only ever having seen one other naked man in her life._

' _S'ok," he chuckles, sitting back down in the seat with his pants around his ankles, "ain't gonna bite ya, I promise."_

 _She anxiously drops to her knees, hands caressing his chest, his legs, his thighs. She kisses his stomach softly, stopping at his nipples, his bellybutton._

" _Good, do what feels natural." He hums, hands at her arms, her sides, where ever he can reach her as she moves down his body._

 _Pausing as she comes to his cock, Beth feels nervous, unsure what to do. She times with Jimmy had been a blur, fueled by hormones and cheap beer, it all happened so quickly, she wasn't even sure what all she had actually done. Most of it felt like Jimmy thrusting into her mouth, jamming into the back of her throat._

" _S'okay," he coaches, taking his hand to stroke the length of his cock. He tightens his grip, moving up and down slowly._

 _Bringing her hand up to imitate his, he removes it, helping her to mimic the motions herself._

" _Mmm, there ya go." He chuckles a little, enjoying watching her explore as she brings her mouth to the tip to give an experimental lick._

 _He closes his eyes tightly for a moment when she puts him in her mouth fully, marveling at the warmth of her tongue, her slender hands running along his shaft._

" _Good girl." He growls, encouraging her bravery for taking him further into her mouth. "Keep goin', use yer tongue a little."_

 _She does as he says, looking up every so often to see him watching her. He looks predatory but somehow proud, cautious but without any regrets, so willing to give himself to her as fully as he's willing to take all she has._

 _Without asking, Beth uses her other hand to massage his balls, resulting in his hips bucking, surprised by her boldness._

" _Fuck, girl. I didn't think ya knew to do that."_

 _Coming up for air, she takes him from her mouth, "Just kinda guessed." She says, softly, trying to catch her breath._

" _Mmm, tell me why I shouldn't fuck you right here and now. Fill that sweet little pussy full of my cum, huh?"_

" _I don't know." In reality, she had no idea why they hadn't had sex yet. He had kept telling her next time that they would, kept dancing around the idea, but it had yet to happen._

" _Wanna make sure yer ready. Wanna make ya fuckin' beg for it," he hisses as she takes him back into her mouth, sucking and pumping as fast as she can, lost in thoughts of Daryl buried deep inside her._

 _Only a few moments later, he pulls her back, one hand cradling her neck, the other pulling out of her mouth, spilling his cum onto her chest, rubbing the head of his cock against her nipple._

" _Holy shit." He breathes out deeply, leaning his head back against the chair, hands still tangled around Beth._

" _Ya did good, girl. Real fuckin' good."_

" _Thanks," she laughs, unsure what to say._

" _Here," he takes his undershirt and wipes her chest, carefully cleaning up every drop of himself._

" _Thanks."_

 _Settling back into his lap, Beth tucks her head underneath his chin, closing her eyes, content with this moment, content with the sound of Daryl's heartbeat beginning to return to normal._

"No, I guess we can't. Gonna get caught eventually, right?"

"Probably. Sooner or later." He runs his fingers up the side of her arm, little goose bumps forming. "Not that I don't like the thrill, but I ain't gonna keep ya my dirty little secret forever."

"Oh yeah?" Is all she can muster, not sure where this is coming from, assuming he's trying to mess with her, manipulate her into a game of sorts.

"Nah, yer ass is mine, Greene." He chuckles, enjoying watching her bewilderment under his touch. "Can't have nobody else lookin' at what's mine, can I?"

"No, I guess not." She can't help but smile, knowing that was a declaration enough, knowing that Daryl was a man of his word and what he said, he meant.

"What about everybody else?"

"What about everybody else?" He asks back.

"What about them finding out? What about Merle? And Dale?"

Daryl's fingers ghost across her wrist, the scars that adorned her skin like tattoos, reminder of day's past for anyone who got close enough. And there was Daryl, looking her straight in the eye, willing to take all that on.

"Don't matter. This is between me and you, Greene. If they find out, they find out but I ain't makin' you feel like my rag doll anymore."

"Mmmm, maybe I like when you make me feel like your rag doll." She says with a grin, unable to hide her laugh.

"Not like that, I know ya like that."

He kneels down to meet her eye level now, his giant hands enveloping both of hers.

"What about my sister? And my Daddy?"

"What about 'em?"

"They're pretty overprotective. I-I'm just a little nervous about telling them."

He runs his fingers over the palm of her hand, eyes lost in thought for a moment.

"Yer Daddy ain't gonna be happy ya wanna be with an old redneck like me, huh?"

"Daryl! Don't say that. They're both worried about me a lot, I can see them both thinkin' I'm bein' crazy or impulsive or something."

"This cause of you hurtin' yourself?"

This was the first time he had mentioned it out loud. Since that day he had caught her in the breakroom, it had never been discussed, but she knew he was aware of it.

"I got out of treatment before I got the job here." Beth says softly, looking down at their intertwined fingers.

"You ain't doin' that shit anymore, are ya?"

"No," she shakes her head, "not since...that first time."

"Have ya wanted to?"

"I haven't felt like I needed to. Now that I have you." Beth says the last part as quietly as she can, hoping the statement rings true for him.

"Yeah, ya do." Daryl kisses the side of her head, lingering for a moment.


	14. Chapter 14

That morning was short lived, the sounds of Merle's boots echoing through the shop. She looked at him regretfully, squeezing his hand before getting up off his lap. Handing him his mug of coffee and tidying the papers on his desk.

"Mornin' little brother," he nods his head acknowledging Beth as well, "Blondie."

Daryl mumbles a hello and goes back to his coffee, his mood instantly altered now that it's not just he and Beth alone together.

"Dale comin' by today?"

"Yeah, he's got some idea for some coupons or some shit."

"Coupons?" Beth asks, looking between them both.

"Yeah, don't be surprised if ya end up bein' the one makin' 'em. Dale says we need a better gimmick to get in new customers."

"Should I go get donuts?"

"Fuck no," Daryl laughs, shaking his head. "He doesn't deserve shit for that idea."

Beth went back to her desk, eager to get the day started

Dale showed up about an hour later, excitedly filling Beth in on his ideas for the coupons. He wanted a good deal, something that their competitors couldn't beat. Racking her brain, she eventually came up with the idea of a free oil change with any custom work over a certain amount. Dale was ecstatic with the idea and sent her to the copy shop to set up an outline of sorts.

The thought of being in Daryl's apartment in only a few short hours filled her with glee. No longer would they have to sneak around the shop. Now they could finally have the chance to fully explore each other, expose him for the man she knew he was inside, protective and strong, comforting and tender a way she had never known anyone in her life to be. Being with him made her feel balanced, whole for the first time in so long. When she was with Daryl, those dark demons couldn't find her anymore, not when he was there to scare them away.

Happy with the colors and font she had picked out, Beth printed out a couple of sheets to show them. One for Dale and one for Daryl. It was better than typing up bills all day, that was for sure.

By the time the got back from the copy shop, she saw Maggie rounding the corner to the auto shop, bags of takeout in hand.

"Maggie!" she calls out to her sister, sprinting to catch up with her.

"Well hey there, Miss secretary. Haven't seen much of you around recently."

Handing her one of the bags, Maggie puts a hand on one hip, side eyeing her younger sister for her absence.

"Wanna sit outside? The owner is here having a meeting with my boss and I doubt they want us in there makin' a bunch of noise."

She and Maggie sit on the bench outside the shop, settling their food into their laps.

"So, you've been busy with work then?" Maggie asks with a forkful of food in her mouth, something behind her eyes. Beth already know she's caught. Glenn told her about Zach.

"Yeah, just finished up with the taxes. Now I'm working on designing some coupons for the shop."

"Glenn said you broke up with Zach." Maggie had a way of cutting right to the chase, she had always been a no bullshit kind of woman. Considering the amount of bullshit she'd tried to pull to get Beth to date Zach in the first place, she found it to be both hypocritical and hilarious.

"Hard to break up with someone you were never dating in the first place. I told you he was never my boyfriend."

"Glenn says he's pretty beat up about it. I thought you _liked_ him, Beth."

"I did but we weren't right together. I didn't want to lead him on."

Maggie lets out a frustrated sigh, setting down her container of food to face her sister directly.

"Are you hurting yourself again? Is this why you're shutting everyone out? Me? Zach?"

Anger seethed deep from inside her, Maggie so quick to jump to conclusions, put Beth in a box and write her off as crazy, looking for any pattern or anything out of the ordinary. A red flag, a warning sign.

"You know you can come to me, Bethy, talk to me about anything."

"No, I can't, Maggie. I can't talk to you about _anything,_ " she shook her head, feeling the words coming out of her head and mouth faster than she could think them through, "you're worse than Daddy most of them time. Settin' me up with Zach like I was too shy and dumb to do it for myself, but you know what? I've been seein' somebody else. Not Zach."

"Glenn said that, too." Maggie's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "He said you're seein' someone from work? I thought you said they were all old and married?"

"What I do, who I see, is none of your business, Maggie."

"Your boss is a little old for you, don't you think? That's not healthy for you, being with someone so much older than you. He can't relate to anything you're goin' through."

Beth was boiling over with animosity for her sister's harsh words about a man she'd never even met, a man who'd been more understanding about her needs in the short time they'd been together than any therapist or doctor her family had ever sent her to.

"You don't know anything about him _or_ me, Maggie." She said coldly, trying to imagine this situation going any other way than it had, wishing that her older sister could be more understanding.

"This is destructive behavior. You know things like this are only going to lead you back down that path." She reached out for her sister's hand, Beth pulling back angrily. "If I think you're hurting yourself, if I find out you're doing something you shouldn't be, I'll have to tell, Daddy. You know that, don't you Beth?"

"No, Maggie, I don't. At almost twenty-one years old, I think I'm plenty capable of decidin' who I should date and I don't need you tattlin' to anybody just cause you don't agree."

Beth shot daggers back at her sister with her eyes, silently hating herself for ever telling Zach that she had feelings for someone else to begin with.

Abandoning her lunch and her sister on the bench, Beth storms back in the shop, shutting the door loudly behind her. Leave it to Maggie to not only try to set her up with someone she found presentable enough but threaten her for behavior she found to be strange. If Maggie knew every little thing he sister did, chances are they'd have deemed her crazy years ago, locked her up and threw away the key.

Merle comes in the door a few moments later with a mischievous grin on his lips, apparently onto something she was not.

"Hey there, girly." He grabbed the pen from her desk, biting on the end with his back teeth.

"What do you want, Merle?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest, scowling at him. "I'm not in the mood for your shit today."

"Ohh, I'd watch what you say around me." He laughs, leaning onto his elbows. "I know somethin' about you ya might not want me tellin' nobody."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know my brother's got a thing fer ya, I ain't blind. If ya got a boyfriend, ya better be more careful about what ya say around the shop. If he hears that, I guarantee you'll be out of a job."

Her eyes began brimming with tears. Here Merle was trying to blackmail her for something she hadn't even done, something she'd been cornered into by Maggie from the beginning.

"I don't have a boyfriend," she sputtered, trying to wipe the tears from her cheeks as quickly as they fell, failing miserably, "he was never my boyfriend. Just some guy my sister pawned me off on."

"I'm just sayin' if ya do got one, ya better break it off before Daryl finds out. He's the jealous type if ya know what I mean."

Merle walks back down to the shop, leaving Beth with her tears and guilt, unsure how to explain the situation to Daryl. He had been nothing short of supportive so far, although she had only touched the very surface of her past with him, he hadn't ran away then, why would this set him off? It wasn't as if they had been together and she did something with Zach. In fact, she and Zach had only kissed those few times, nothing in comparison to the things she and Daryl had done - and she hoped still wanted to do.

As long as she was honest with him, opened herself up to him, why would he shut her down? That was the only shred of hope she could hold onto that evening waiting for the shop to empty until it was just the two of them again.

Coupons in hand, she sits on the corner of his desk, watching him finish up a phone call. He puts one hand on her knee, squeezing gently.

"Uh huh," he grumbles into the receiver, fingers tiptoeing up her skirt, head leaning down to look between her legs, a wicked smile on his face.

"Yeah, I'll give ya a call tomorrow and we'll get it taken care of." He rolls his eyes. "Yes, Dale, she made the coupons, they look great."

Beth smiles at him, completely enamored by his gaze. The thing about him that shocks her the most is his ability to quite literally take her breath away with a single touch, a glance, the way he takes control over her so easily. She always tells herself she'll resist, stand tall and be bold but something about him leaves her submitting to him every time.

"I'll talk to you later, Dale. Bye." He hangs up the phone quickly before Dale can say another word.

He lets out a deep sigh, running his hands along the outside of her thighs.

"What's up, baby doll? You ready?"

"Yeah, I just um, I gotta talk to you about something first," she can't help but look down, her brows furrow in worry causing Daryl to become concerned.

"What's wrong?" He asks, standing to wrap his arms around her small frame. "You don't gotta be scared to tell me anything, Beth."

Daryl takes her chin between his hand, caressing her face softly with his thumb.

"My sister came to see me today. This _stupid_ guy she tried to set me up with told her I wouldn't go out with him, I told him I had feelings for you and she accused me of destructive, said this," she gestures between the two of them with her hand, "was gonna end up with me slitting my wrists again."

He pulls away from her, looking confused. "You had a boyfriend when ya started foolin' around with me?"

"No, Daryl, he was never my boyfriend-"

"Ya runnin' around on me, girl? Think ya can make a fool outta me when I finally let my guard down?"

Just as Merle had said, Daryl was the jealous type and he wasn't taking this news well at all.

"You fuck him? Huh?" He tightens his grip on her for a second, pushing off her to stand, taking a step back from the desk where she's sitting.

"No, Daryl. We only kissed a few times. And nothing happened after that first time with you."

"Why should I believe a word you say to me, girl?" His words were like poison, dripping off his tongue.

Daryl was pacing now, one fist at his side, the other biting at his thumb nail. Beth gets up to try to reason with him, try to give him a reason to see the good that's inside her. To try to make him see that she would never do anything to intentionally hurt him. Extending her hand out to touch his back, he flinches.

"Beth, _don't_ ," he warns, his tone warning her to back off.

"Daryl," she whispers trying to muster the strength to find the words inside her to make him see all the things she knows he's seen in her before.

"We can't fuckin' do this, do ya see what yer doin' to my head?"

Not caring about obeying him, about doing what he says, she flings her arms around him, burying her head in his chest.

" _Daryl, please_ ," Beth begs him, sobbing into his chest, all her weight on him forcing him to support her in his arms. "I need you."

"Don't give a fuck if he wasn't yer boyfriend, Beth. The idea of any man puttin' his hands on ya makes my blood boil," his grip on her tightens, bringing her closer to him, "I'd beat the shit outta anybody who even looked at ya."

Lifting a hand to stroke her cheek, he wipes away the tears there. He laughs softly, running his finger through her hair, the anger dissipating from his voice, but the sadness still lingering. "I know ya didn't do anythin' on purpose, but I can't help but feel jealous."

"I didn't even think it was worth mentioning. He doesn't mean anything to me." Beth burrows her face in his neck, standing on her tiptoes to reach his ear, " _You_ mean everything to me, Daryl."

"You don't want him? Someone yer own age?" He frowns, looking down at the ground.

"No. I don't want him. I want you."

Placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, she stands back on flat feet, holding his hands in hers.

"You don't want me to come over tonight?"

Daryl shrugs his shoulders. "I need some time."

As much as she wants to understand, she can't help but feel hurt all at the same time. Beth was more than ready to give herself to him fully that night, to wholly be with someone who she cared about deeply and now he was turning her away for something she tried so narrowly to avoid.

"Okay."

She pulls away from him, defeated. Her heart feels heavy in her chest, unwanted and abandoned by his refusal.

"Hey," he pulls her back into his arms, his mouth tickling her ear with his beard, his breath hot on her skin, "I'm stupid and I'm fuckin' prideful, Beth. I can't help it."

"I only dated him because I thought you'd never want anything to do with me."

"Whatcha mean, girl? What do I have to do with him?"

"I had a stupid crush on you the second I met you," she shakes her head, wiping away more tears with the back of her hand, turning to look at him, "I didn't think there was any chance, so I went on a few dates with him. By the time I made that typo on the bill, I hadn't answered any more of his calls. He was never my boyfriend."

"Ya didn't fuck him?" He asks again, still sounding hurt and wounded.

" _No, Daryl._ " Beth sniffles, shaking her head at his callous accusation.

"Ya promise?"

"Daryl, I've only had sex with one person and that was in high school. I told you, no."

He plants a kiss on her shoulder, fingers running up and down her arm.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, sounding genuine this time. Turning to face him, she hugs him tightly.

" _I'm_ sorry, Daryl. I just want to be with you."

"I know, baby doll. Wanna be with ya too." He rested his forehead against hers, looking deep blue into crystal blue, eyes both sad with remorse.

"I'd never do anything to hurt you."

He runs his fingers through her hair, looking down at her somberly, "Just need a couple of days, okay?"

Beth nods in response, laying her head down on his shoulder, allowing his strong arms to cradle her.


	15. Chapter 15

Daryl couldn't help but seethe with anger thinking of another man's hands on Beth. As much as he knew, or wanted to tell himself, that she would never do anything to hurt him, the damage was already done. He sucked down a beer greedily, cigarette in hand. There was in way in hell things could go back to the way the were, not now that she'd done what she had.

To say Daryl hadn't been unlucky with women was an understatement. Merle teased him relentlessly while he was a teenager, pining over their landlady's daughter. When their mother would send Daryl out to the laundry room to change her load of whites over, she'd bat eyes at him from the connected rental office, crossing impossibly long legs as she sucked down a diet soda, gaze on him all the while.

He couldn't help but sneak glances back at her, eyes darting downward as she smiled back in his direction, lips smothered in shiny gloss as he put the sopping wet clothes into the crappy old dryer. How badly he wanted to have the confidence inside him to go talk to her, make her laugh and blush, smile at his stupid jokes. Unfortunately, Daryl never mustered the strength to do it and she ended up dating another boy from the trailer park who was a few years older, hopping on the back of his bike and waving at Daryl, empty laundry basket in hand.

Later, after high school, he'd met a girl through Merle's group of riding buddies, one of their old ladies younger sisters. She was shy and doe-like at first, angelic in a way not unlike Beth, far too beautiful to be hanging around with a bunch of good for nothing bikers. But there she was, in the thick of it, throwing back beers and shots with the best of them, even drinking Merle under the table a few times. Her older sister and Merle had a foul relationship, always getting in brutal fights, punching and hitting each other when they'd bother had one too many and been up for too long. She'd pull them off each other, light up a cigarette for each of them and force them to work it out. Daryl had been surprised by that, had never seen anyone like that growing up. Willing to put all their bullshit aside and lay it all out on the table.

But she had a mean streak, he'd seen her sick on tequila one night, gotten into a brawl with a girl who's accidently bumped into her sister on the dance floor. Bloodied the other girl up good, ripped out a chunk of her hair. It took Daryl and Merle both to get her off, kicking and screaming, spitting with anger, taunting her to ever touch her sister again, let alone look at her.

Merle had tried to push him on her, for months he'd hinted they should get together, finding excuses to leave them alone. Daryl would make up some excuse, head out to work or to his room, anywhere he could go to escape the creeping blush on his face and her prying eyes. She was a little thing, barely five feet tall in boots but curvy as hell. When she'd ride with Merle and his friends, she'd tuck on the back of a bike like she belonged there, arms wrapped around the rider's chest tightly, her luscious things holding on, black jeans so tight he'd swore they were painted on.

Her hair was longer than anything he'd ever seen, a dark plum color that shone like fire in the sun, making her stand out in the distance. She had high cheekbones and a small, impish nose freckled from the Georgia sun. Whenever she was around, her laughter bellowed through the area, turning heads at the sound of her gorgeous voice. Daryl could spot her across the bar, accepting a drink from some idiot who could barely keep his eyes off her chest let alone carry on a decent conversation. He wondered how it was a girl like that, one so fucking tragically beautiful would get stuck with one idiot like that after the next.

The sisters would spend a couple hours friday night getting ready to go out with Merle and their gang, pregaming by the time Daryl got home from work. They'd try on a few different outfits, leather and fringe, black lace and cut up band tees tied tightly around their chests and backs, intricate designs tied together exposing pale flesh.

"Ya ain't comin' out tonight, baby brother? Sure to be a good one tonight! Joe got a raise down at the plant, he's buying!"

"Nah, I'm staying in tonight. Tired from work," he mumbles, taking a swig of his beer.

She's across the room applying eyeliner expertly, her dark eyeshadow making her green eyes pop like nothing he's ever seen before.

"What's wrong, Daryl?" Her sister comes out of the bedroom, dressed in a ridiculous black leather number that's way too tight for her. "Don't feel like coming out to play?"

"Leave him alone. Daryl doesn't have to go if he doesn't want to." She smiles at him, biting her lip a little when he looks quickly at the TV.

"Would it kill yer ass to get out of the house and get some pussy once in awhile, huh?" Merle punches his shoulder, ready to walk out the door.

He doesn't answer, but watches her all the while as they leave, the contours of her body dancing in the dingy light of the trailer, her torn jeans ripped just above her ass cheeks, the plump, round flesh calling his name with every step.

That night after they all pile back into the trailer, Merle three sheets to the wind, so drunk and high he's practically stumbling over himself, his girlfriend dragging him into the bedroom. Little sister trailing not far behind, Daryl could practically smell the desperation on her, stalking him like a lioness from the second the trailer door shut. She kicked off her boots, lighting a cigarette between her still perfectly glossed lips, a perfect pink heart.

"Your brothers a real piece of shit, you know that?" She drawled, throwing the lighter on the ground in front of him, littered with empty beer cans. "Why is it you're so sweet, hmm?"

"Ain't sweet, just ain't fuckin' stupid."

"Mmm, I think we both know that ain't true, Daryl. I'm a pretty good judge of character."

She exhaled deeply, the room filling with the smell of her marlboro red 100's.

"That so?" He growled back, hating the feeling of being baited like this, knowing well enough she was doing what he'd done to his prey in the woods for years, backing them into a corner.

"Yep. I know your brother is the fucking devil and you're an angel," she said matter of factly followed by a small laugh.

"Ya don't know shit, girl."

Before he could turn to see her face, she was on top of him, pouncing like he knew she would, he had hoped and anticipated from the moment he saw her. Nails like claws ripping into his skin, ridding him of his shirt, the scars on his back no worry to him in the arms of a girl, a woman as wild as she. There was no doubt in his mind her scars ran a mile deep. Her teeth razor sharp, clashing against his own, her tongue exploring without caution, delving deeper, consuming him without any question. She wanted him for her own and she took him then and there.

From that night on, she and Daryl were inseparable. She'd stop by the shop on his breaks with a homemade lunch in hand, a pack of cigarettes in the other. They'd always laugh about what a shitty cook she was, but Daryl was more than happy to have a woman in his life who cared enough to make sure he had a lunch to eat at all. Something about her made him forget all that bad shit from his past, her spitfire igniting him from within, making him see all the things in life he never knew existed before.

They'd make love throughout the night, late into the morning, working Daryl for every ounce she could get from him, some days leaving him waking up sore. His bedsheets slick with sweat, soaked in her scent, invading his dreams, visions of her laughter, her moans of pleasure in his ear when she was not there curled up beside him. She was a giving lover, but she took so much out of him. Emotionally, physically, she was everything.

She was a bartender at their local spot, often picking up shifts when she could to make extra cash to get by. Although her sister stayed with Merle most of the time, she was still living with their ailing father, working to pay for his prescriptions and medical bills. Daryl was angry her sister couldn't bothered to help out, too busy snorting up whatever Merle would give her to care about her old man. Some nights he'd get off work, stop by the late night deli and pick up some food for she and her father, happy to do what he could.

A lot of the regulars had taken a liking to her, being the youngest and without a doubt most attractive woman working at the bar. Originally this wasn't something that bothered Daryl too much, knew it could be worse, knew that chances are they were just looking and wouldn't touch but when he saw her flirting with some of the old truckers from out of town, he couldn't help but feel angry. Over and over again she'd promised it meant nothing, they'd drank too much and always tipped better if she listened to their old stories, laughed along and touched their arms.

Looking back, he wish he'd seen the red flags sooner. Looking back, he'd always known she wasn't faithful. It started with those little touches and extra tips and ended with Daryl finding her coming out of the bathroom stall of the bar, lipstick all over the neck of the guy she'd just fucked, not an ounce of remorse on that pretty little face of hers.

"What did you expect, sweetheart? I never promised you my heart, did I?" Her eyes were cold now, lifeless, so different from the ones he had seen that night in the trailer. The eyeshadow she'd applied to expertly that night now looked garish and gaudy.

She took a flask out of her top, breasts practically ready to spring free from the flimsy top she wore.

"Here, a parting gift. Can't say ya weren't a good lay, Dixon."

She was a spitfire after all. She was a succubus. Luring him in with her seemingly kind demeanor underneath all that grit, working him down, making him softer and softer until she had him like putty in her hands.

She had destroyed him.

So the thought of Beth even touching, even talking to another man made him more upset than he could even express to her. He knew it wasn't her fault for these feelings, these hang ups, but he wished he could make them leave his mind, make the scars from the past fade like the worn lines at his eyes, the small wrinkles forming there with grief, with regret.

He knew that Beth had demons of her own, demons she was willing to share with him. That wasn't an easy thing for most people. There was no good reason to turn her away, hurt her for the things she couldn't control. From that moment he saw her taking things into her own hands in the breakroom, slicing into her flesh as the only way to cope, he got it. Knew what it felt like to what to open yourself up and feel anything other than the pain that burned deep inside. She didn't deserve that scorn, that hate for an unfaithful lover from year's past. None of that was Beth's fault. As much as it burned deep inside like the alcohol on his empty stomach, he knew it was true.

The next couple days between them are tense, Daryl not showing up early to see her as they had been for the few weeks prior to that. He could sense the sadness on her face, the disappointment and confusion she tried to hide when he walked past her with a simple hello, but he could not shake the feeling, the image of her kissing another man. A faceless, meaningless no one that was weighing so heavily on his heart.

His pride made him too angry, too resentful to apologize, to explain his feelings to her in detail. How could he tell her all this when the chances were even greater of her doing the same thing to him? Taking it all away in an instant, the pleasure, the pain, the hope for a future with someone he could care about, maybe even love?

That was something Daryl had never known in his life, never said to another human being. Not even Merle. Somewhere deep inside of him he liked to hope, liked to think that some part of him was capable of that kind of love. The kind of love that envelops you completely, swallows you whole until there is nothing else in the world but that other person.

Will Dixon was a piece of shit. Beat his wife and children like no good dirty dogs. Took out his belt and made Daryl run for his life over anything little thing just because he could. More often than not Merle tried to get the brunt of the beatings, but by the time he was a teenager and headed off to juvie, there was no one there to stand up for Daryl anymore. Watching everything he put his mother through made him think that there was no way love could exist. The only thing he knew was pain suffering and agony, but something about Beth Greene, something about her vulnerability so much like his own, so raw and real, made him believe that maybe that kind of real, true love could exist. Even if it was a love that was dirty and rough, hard and sharp like the hunting knife he still kept at his bedside table, the looming nightmares of his father still hiding in the back of his mind, it was also pure and simple in many ways.

What he felt for Beth was not something easily defined, something he could put a finger on. Those stolen moments, those cherished hours with her had started to heal his past, that much was truly evident. He needed to release the tension within him, the anger and hurt that lay below the surface just as much as Beth did. They both needed the control, the sting of pain and pleasure, the solace of one another.

Having her under his grip, at his mercy, gave him control over everything he could not face in his life, the abandonment, the shame, the guilt. When it was just he and Beth, none of those things mattered anymore because she too, felt the release, the flood of emotions pouring from their bodies, in sweat, in cum, in tears. They had experienced it all together already without having to dig up the past, unearth the decaying bodies of their demon's. Under his touch, the wounds didn't need to heal. Together, they could bleed freely, without hesitation, without judgement.

Swallowing his pride, stuffing down the man inside who told him not to give her another chance to get inside those walls, to let his guard down was hushed for a moment, long enough to make the walk to her desk, hoping she'd wait for him.

And of course she had, her thin shoulders visible in the thin, cream colored blouse she wore that day, her hair braided up high on her head, accentuating her gorgeous, swan-like neck. The neck he had missed peppering with kisses, sinking his teeth into and caressing softly with his fingers. Mentally, he kicked himself for ever showing her an ounce of anger for telling the truth, for making her past known to him, confirmation of their relationship or not. Beth Greene was a good, honest woman and he knew that much. In his soul, in the core of his heart he knew that.

"Hi," she said softly, looking up from her desk.

She looked so sad, so broken. So different from the woman who'd laid herself across his lap only a week before, eager for his rigid touch.

"Hi," he says back, clearing his throat, "guess I fucked up, huh?"

"No," she shakes her head, standing to meet him. Extending one hand, she takes it from the pocket of his coveralls. "we both fucked up."

"You were honest. Shouldn't been so hard on ya."

"What should I have expected? Merle said-"

"Merle? What does Merle have to do with this?"

"He heard me and Maggie talking that day. Said you were the jealous type and if I had a boyfriend I'd better forget it, but I never wanted him." Her voice is desperate, pleading. "You gotta know that, right?"

Daryl takes a step forward to cup her cheek with his hand, the other moving to her waist.

"Baby doll, what Merle said don't mean shit, neither does what yer sister said. This is about me and you. If we're gonna take care of each other, we gotta learn to trust each other, too."

"I've never really done this before, Daryl. Not properly anyways, not with someone," she stammered, her eyes glimmering with tears, "someone who actually means something to me."

Burrowing his face in her hair, he inhales deeply, the guilt he'd put on her so prevalent now, dripping with every tear that fell from her cheeks.

"I been hurt before, sweetheart. Pretty fuckin' bad. It ain't yer fault."

He pulls back to wipe the tears away from her face, kissing the corner of her mouth, her nose, her forehead.

"I'm still probably pretty fucked up and to be honest, I don't know what I'm doin' either, but I know I need ya more than I ever needed anybody in my whole life."

Beth nods her head, meeting her lips to his, her tiny frame holding onto his middle tightly, fitting so perfectly in his arms.

"Do you know how much you mean to me, Daryl? I can't stand to have you angry at me like that. Mad, sure, but the way you looked at me before made me wish I'd never existed," she whispered as she pulled away from him, her hands still trembling.

Putting a strand of hair behind her ear, he lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head.

"I'm tellin' you this now, baby girl. I'm a fuckin' idiot and I'm stubborn as hell but I don't ever mean to hurt ya."

"We'll get through it, you know."

For the first time ever, Daryl really believed that. And Beth did too. Because for the first time ever, they both had a reason to get through it, to make their way through the hard stuff, the most painful wounds and scars waiting to be ripped open.

"I know we will," he says confidently, utterly and completely enamored with the woman in front of him, a tiny powerhouse of strength more than she even knows.

With that strength, with that power and maybe even love between them, he knows that they can take on anything.


	16. Chapter 16

"You wanna come over tonight?" Daryl asked her gruffly that morning. "Talk about stuff?" Something in his tone was hesitant and a little sad.

Beth let out a deep sigh, running her fingers through his unkempt hair. He was sitting at his desk as she stood behind him, the other hand at his shoulder.

"Yeah, I gotta go talk to Maggie first though." Leaning into her embrace, he lets out a soft moan when her fingers trail down his neck, teasing at the hairs around his neckline.

This was going to be a lot of effort between the two of them, dealing with her family, plus Merle and Dale. Beth was pretty sure Merle could care less but she hated him for spying on her let alone trying to blackmail her for a situation he had no right to barge right in on. It was apparent Merle and Maggie had a lot in common in that sense.

Maybe Merle was just as protective as Maggie was, she could give him the benefit of the doubt for that one, she understood that.

"Wanna meet your dad." Daryl said, turning to face her, his eyes genuine and serious.

"You sure?" Her grip on his shoulders tightened, the thought of having to come clean to her parents about this putting her on edge.

If Hershel had put up a little fuss about Zach, he was sure to be skeptical when meeting Daryl. Beth's stomach dropped thinking about bringing this up to her father.

"You'd rather yer sister go tellin' him yer shackin' up with some dirty, old grease monkey who's almost fifteen years older than ya are?" Daryl asks, giving her a guilty look. A part of him thinks she'll to tell him it's true, he's too old for her and she's changed his mind.

"No, I guess it's the honorable thing. You're right." She looks down for a moment, thinking to herself.

"That's how old I am, thirty-four. In case ya ever wondered." He scoffs, turning around in his chair to bring her into his lap.

"I know how old you are." Beth wraps her hands around his neck, teasingly kissing below his ear. "Don't forget who did your taxes."

"Oh, right." He grumbles, hands gripping tightly at her slim waist. "I forget you know everything."

"Yep, that's why you hired me," she mews, finally feeling confident enough to be more assertive with him, taking his earlobe into her mouth, sucking and playing with it against her teeth and tongue.

"No," he lets out a shaky breath, moving his hands to her bottom, "I hired ya because you were qualified and cause you've got the sweetest ass I've ever seen."

"Now you're just trying to butter me up, Daryl."

"Mmm, I don't gotta do nothin', you're already mine, aren't ya?"

He pulls her closer now, the stumps of his bitten nails digging into her thighs, her bottom. She can hear the desperation, the eagerness in his voice. He needs to know that she wants him, wants this just as much as he does.

"Of course I am."

Looking deep into his eyes, she tries to recall his past, the years of abandonment and neglect. She can feel his need for her then, so much bigger than she ever could have imagined, so often overwhelmed by her own need for Daryl as her anchor.

"Daryl, when are we going to tell Dale?" she asks quietly, knowing he's the next person who needs to know what's going on before he hears it elsewhere.

"We'll deal with him after your daddy, alright?"

"Okay," she breathed out deeply. Daryl admired the contours of her face, the early morning sun coming through the slatted blinds leaving lines of color on her creamy skin. Her golden hair heavy at her shoulders, no braids today, loose curtains framing her troubled face.

He hated to see her go through this, thinking about everything, working it through her mind silently without him. The thin sweater she was wearing left little to the imagination, soft, grey cotton teasing his fingers as he pushes down her sleeve to kiss her skin here.

"What are you thinkin' about?" he asks against her skin.

"How scary this is but how happy it makes me all at the same time."

"Yeah?" Daryl felt a tightening in his chest, the anticipation of her words bringing a grin to his face.

"Yeah." She nuzzles into his lap, tucking her head underneath his chin, letting out a soft hum.

"Well, well, do my eyes deceive me?" Merle snickered from the doorway, unlike cigarette hanging out of his ornery mouth. "I knew you two were doin' the nasty."

"Shut the fuck up, Merle. Ain't nobody doin' anything." Daryl's grip on her tightened as she tried to get up from his lap.

"Just sayin', I called it." His face his smug, looking completely entertained with the sight in front of him.

Beth gives Merle the same scowl Daryl is sporting, tired of him acting like such an ass all the time.

"Yeah, well, if ya don't mind I'd like it if you'd keep yer mouth shut until I get the chance to talk to Dale 'bout it."

"Don't worry, Darlene. I won't go stirrin' any shit with yer little secretary soap opera."

He walks out of the room, chuckling all the while. Beth turns back to Daryl with a frown on her face.

"I wish he wouldn't be so crass about everything all the time."

Daryl grins, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "You'll get used to it eventually. He's not all bad."

"If anything I think he's a little jealous." She plants a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"You wouldn't be wrong about that, baby doll. Anybody who sees me with you is gonna be jealous," he growls, "can't wait to take you out, show this sweet little ass off."

She gasps when he reaches up under her shirt without hesitation, the office door open, tugging and twisting on her pert nipples.

" _Daryl,"_ she whines, arching into him despite protesting, "You're so bad. Gonna get us caught."

"I'm not the bad one. Ya ain't even wearin' a bra. Yer practically beggin' for it, girl."

Whipping around to face him clearly she narrows her eyes at him, still smiling coyly, but not removing his hand from her chest. "It's a singlet."

"Whatever the fuck it is, it ain't doin' shit fer ya. I could see those perfect little nipples right through it."

"Daryl, let me up," Beth whined, wriggling around in his lap, knowing his growing erection isn't making it any easier for her to do what she's asking him.

"Mmm, yer gonna get it tonight," he growls in her ear, wrapping a fistfull of hair around his fingers, pulling back to get better access to her neck.

Kissing and nipping at her there, he savors saltiness of skin, loving every cell, every pore.

He lets her go, getting up and setting her down flat on her feet. Adjusting her dress and sweater, smoothing out her hair, she turns and shoots him a dirty look.

"Go on, girl," Daryl smirks, giving her a firm slap on the ass, "ya better behave, ya hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah." Beth waves a hand at him as she walks away, knowing it's more fun if she doesn't behave herself.

After work, Beth drives over to her sister's house, unannounced. She knew if she showed up without calling first, Maggie couldn't make up an excuse or yell at her. This way, she couldn't run away. From now on, that was how she wanted to handle things. She told herself that this really was her fresh start. Daryl was her chance to start a new, to come clean, rid herself of the shame and anguish of her past, stand up to all the people in her life who tried to hold her so closely. Who tried so hard to protect her only to hold her back, only to stifle who she really was.

Nothing about Daryl made her feel that way. For the first time in her life it was like everything was truly making sense. Even amongst all the confusion and messiness of confronting their feelings, it felt right.

In that short period of time, Daryl had truly become her anchor. The possibility of losing that, the chance of her father being angry, Dale firing her, none of that mattered if she could still have Daryl in her life. For the first time, she was fearless. Maggie was no threat to her, just an obstacle to overcome. Deep down, Beth knew that Maggie's anger was not for her sister but for her safety.

She had seen Beth crumble into pieces, fall apart before her feet so many times before, that was something that really scared Maggie. The potential for something bigger, a relationship with someone older could pose a threat for someone like Beth. Someone her family saw as weak and vulnerable, not capable of making healthy choices for herself, but the thought of being apart from Daryl was the farthest thing from ill she'd ever felt.

Gripping her hands on the steering wheel, she looks down at the white lines, the dots that tell the story of her first suicide attempt. All her life Hershel had said she'd worn her heart on her sleeve, but Beth wore a list of grievances, a silent protest against the war on her body. Begging, pleading to feeling anything other than the storm thrashing inside her mind. Resentment for the things she could not control, for the world around her forever changing, never feeling able to catch up. Standing still as everyone lived their lives around her.

Now she'd developed different scars, marks of love, wounds of gentle encouragement from a man who saw all those things, knew all those things and wanted nothing more but to open her up and delve deeper, diving into the storm and pulling her out whole in one piece.

Beth knew that if Maggie knew these things about him, she'd have to understand why Beth cared about him so much. If she knew how much Daryl meant to her little sister, maybe the fact that he was older and her boss wouldn't matter quite as much.

Parking a little further down the street from Glenn and Maggie's house, Beth spies both their cars outside and her breath starts to hitch. Sure it was easy to build herself up on the drive over, but now that she was actually here, actually doing this, all her nerves came back like a bolt of lightning.

Getting out and locking her door, she walks up to the porch, letting herself in without knocking. Putting down her purse and looking into the small living room, Beth sees Glenn on the floor in front of the TV wrestling with a bunch of wires.

"Hey," she says, calling his attention to turn around, "is Maggie here?"

"Uh, yeah. In our room," he smiles nervously.

"I'm gonna go talk to her."

"She's not mad, Beth."

Turning back on her heel quickly, she snaps at Glenn, "Mad? _I_ should be mad. She pushed me on some guy I didn't really want to date for months because she thought it would be _good_ for me and now that she finds out I'm seeing someone else, she takes it personally and makes it all about her!"

"Give her a break. Maggie doesn't know how to talk about things, she just wants to fix them. You know?"

Beth had understood that. Maggie was a lot like their father in that way. He always told them that actions spoke louder than words and maybe that was Maggie's way of trying to show Beth how much she did care, in her own way.

"Look, I'm sorry, Glenn. You don't need to get in the middle of this, okay? I understand where you're coming from."

He gives her a weak smile and nods his head, knowing better than to argue with her. "It's okay. I'm sorry if I had anything to do with the Zach thing. You're old enough to make your own choices without me and Maggie playing matchmaker for you."

As she walks by to he and Maggie's room, Beth nudges his arm, already feeling better about the situation.

Lightly knocking on the door, she opens it to see her sister laying on her side. Sitting up to face her, Maggie smiles at her softly.

"Hi, Bethy." She pats the bed next to her, encouraging Beth to sit down.

"Hi," Beth says giving her sister a weak smile back. Based on the conversation she's just had with Glenn, she can't already help but feel the anger inside her melting away.

"Look, I'm sorry for being such a bitch. You didn't deserve that, me sayin' I was going to sell Daddy about you and Daryl."

"Maggie Greene, do not call yourself that. You know how much I _hate_ that word," she laughed, taking her sister's hands. "I should have told you about Daryl from the first day it happened. I was afraid it wasn't going to happen at all, you know? That's why I didn't say anything sooner."

"So it is happening? You're dating him?"

Letting out a deep sigh, she laid back on bed beside Maggie. "He keeps saying, 'I'm his and he's mine' and things like that but we have yet to go on an actual date. Things are kind of complicated right now."

"He's good to you though? He's not fooling around on somebody else with you? Sleeping with the secretary sort of thing?" Maggie propped herself up on her elbows, her face looking concerned.

"No, god no. Daryl isn't married. I know he was hurt pretty bad before, so maybe he's scared of commitment or something, I don't really know."

"But I mean, he's good to you right?" Maggie asks, concerned. "He's not taking advantage of you?"

"No! He's a good man, Maggie. A sweet, thoughtful man. He's just…" she tries to find the words to describe Daryl and her feelings for him, all the things she'd wanted to tell Maggie back when she was thinking about it in the car not coming to her no matter how hard she tried to recall them. "...he's complicated."

"Are you having sex with him?"

"No, we haven't yet, but I want to." Beth felt a little anxious discussing this with her sister. Having only ever been with Jimmy, it wasn't something she was totally comfortable discussing when she knew her sister was so much more knowledgeable about everything. There was no way she could tell Maggie how rough Daryl was with her.

"Be careful, okay?" Maggie looked down, furrowing her brow. "You're not a little girl anymore, Bethy. I'm not gonna tell you what to do, but I want you to promise me you'll always come to me with anything, okay?"

Nodding her head, she turns to hug her sister tightly, feeling so thankful to have someone in her life who cared about her so much, even to a fault sometimes.

"And I promise I'm gonna stay out of your business, okay? But I can't promise you Daddy isn't. Chances are he's gonna give Daryl the run around."

Beth pulls back, giving her sister a nervous smile. "It'll be okay."

She stays with Maggie a while longer, the weight of the situation lifted from her shoulders. Now that she had her sister on her side, facing Hershel wouldn't be as bad. At least Maggie could understand what it was like to be with someone you weren't supposed to be with.

Not that she and Glenn weren't great together, because they really were. Her father would come around eventually, he would see how crazy they were about each other and that Glenn would do anything for her. Beth had always been a little jealous of their closeness, wishing she could have met someone as devoted to her as Glenn was to Maggie. Maybe she had now.

If their father could tolerate their relationship, maybe he would warm up to the idea of she and Daryl eventually too?

Taking the directions out of her purse Daryl had scribbled down, she drove over to his address, looking for the house number and his truck outside. The nerves that had dissipated from the conversation with Maggie came back full force.

Beth parked down the street a ways, looking at the blue duplex in front of her. It was cute, charming even. She could tell by the upkeep up the front yard that the right side belonged to Daryl, neatly trimmed and pruned with bushes in front of the windows.

Knocking on the door, she waits there a minute, realizing this was the first time she'd seen him outside of her nice work clothes. She'd hoped the outfit Maggie had forced her into was cute, even if it was a little big. Maggie had picked out a navy blue knit skirt and a blue and white polka dot tank top. Cute, but casual, nothing as boring as she wore to work every day, at least.

"Hey," he smirks at her, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

"Hi," Beth says quietly, following him inside.

The inside of the apartment is dark, but comfortable. Painted in rich maroons and dark browns. There are several taxidermy animals on the wall, which didn't surprise her. She'd known Daryl hunted on occasion when he had the time. A few framed photographs of landscapes, a few of he and Merle from a few years back, out in front of their motorcycles.

He takes her hand, pulling her attention from the photos on the wall and down onto the couch with him, wrapping her up in his arms.

"So, what did your sister say?"

"She admitted to being wrong, thank god. If she had gone and told daddy before we do, I think she'd give him a heart attack," Beth laughs to herself, relieved that part of the situation is already over.

She looks up at Daryl, wondering how it is they've already overcome so many obstacles just to be together. And this was the first of many.

"Good," he says into her hair, running his fingers through it. Although he hadn't told her he'd liked her hair down, she'd noticed how much more drawn to it Daryl was when she didn't have it up in a braid.

Beth already felt the need for him growing inside her, the heat pooling between her legs. Sure, that was that he had originally invited her there for, days prior. Before he found out about Zach, before Merle and Maggie got thrown into the mix. Before the prospects of telling Dale and her father came into view. Now was the time to talk, to lay everything out on the table. That's why they were there. She knew that.

His fingers trail along the hem of her skirt that stops just above her knees, the fabric tickling her skin along with his rough, callous hands. His eyes are serious, concentrated on her body, thoughts obviously elsewhere as well.

"Daryl?"

"Hmm?" he mumbles back, not stopping what he's doing to make eye contact.

"Why was Merle so overprotective when he thought I had a boyfriend? Why did he say you'd fire me?"

There was no easy way for her to word this. There wasn't going to be no matter how easy she wanted it all to be, to ignore the feelings, their past and just be together, but all at the same time, Beth wanted to know those things about Daryl. Why he had reacted the way he did, why Merle was so quick to cast her out.

He sighs, sitting up. "Used to have this girlfriend, she seemed real sweet, kinda rough around the edges." Daryl shrugs his shoulders. "We was together fer a while till she started fuckin' around on me."

"Daryl," Beth reaches out a hand to stroke his face, the scruff of his beard rough in contrast to the smooth, pale fingers. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't gotta be sorry. It was a long time ago, but that kind of shit don't go away, you know?" He shakes his head, looking more lost, more sad than she's ever seen him and it breaks her heart. "Merle knew that shit fucked me up, knew I'd had feelings fer ya from the start. Probably didn't wanna be the one to have to pick me up and put me back together again."

Beth realized Merle and Maggie were a lot alike. They both cared about their siblings fiercely and wanted to protect them at all costs. She couldn't harbor any anger towards either of them for acting the way they had. Maggie had tried, many times, along with the rest of her family, to keep Beth happy. Keep her in check, taking her meds and going to appointments. Always trying to get her to open up more, go more places. It might not have always worked but at least Maggie cared enough to make an effort. She understood what it was like to have someone holding you together like that.

She couldn't imagine the pain he had gone through, loving someone like that, giving himself to someone only to have everything taken from him, deceived and lied to. The person he'd thought he could trust the most doing the one thing to completely destroy him.

There was no way Beth could ever do that. Ever since Daryl had laid his hands on her that first day, there was no doubt in her mind she'd do anything she could to keep him for herself. How could someone do that to a man like him? No wonder he was guarded and withdrawn at times, short tempered and moody. All of these things added up slowly, like puzzle pieces fitting the scene, showing her a clearer picture of who he was and what he had gone through.

"You know I'd never do anything like that, don't you?" Moving her hand up to his hair, she brushes it out of his eyes.

"A part of me does but there's always that paranoid thought in the back of my head," he says looking away from her, the hurt in his voice is thick.

"Daryl, you can trust me, I promise," Beth whispers, pulling herself closer to him. "I would never, ever do anything to hurt you."

"Maybe I just need you to remind me that," he mumbles.

"You gotta let me try, at least," she says running her hands up and down his arms, feeling the tension in his body, his muscles strained beneath his flannel shirt.

"I know, baby. I know," Daryl replies softly, bringing his hands to her face to look her square in the eye.

He's quiet for a moment, studying her face. Beth takes a sharp breath in, her feelings for him overwhelming her.

"Yer the best thing that's happened to me in a long time, girl. I ain't lookin' to fuck this up any time soon, you know?"

Before Beth can hold them back, several tears begin to fall from her eyes, cascading down onto her cheeks, onto Daryl's shirt. Nuzzling her body closer to him she cries quietly, infinitely grateful for the man in her arms.

"Baby doll, don't cry," he cooed, rubbing her back with one arm, the other wrapped tightly around her waist.

"It's funny, there was this girl in my group, when I was in treatment," Beth begins, pulling away to look at him, wiping the tears away with her hands quickly, "she said when you're suicidal, you never really make plans for yourself or think about the future or getting older. If you make it, if you survive, you're kind of pleasantly surprised. But now that I've met you, all I want to do is make plans. When I'm with you, I feel like I'm surviving. Not just making it 'cause other people wanted me to."

She feels stupid still, making such a bold revelation but she knows this is the time to do it. To tell him how she really feels, what she wants.

His hands immediately cast down at the scar at her wrist, Daryl's thumb running over it gently.

"I ain't ever told ya this, but my Dad drank a lot when me and Merle was growin' up. Beat the shit out of me every chance he got. Looked at him wrong and he'd have the belt and me before I could flinch."

Leaning down he plants a gentle kiss on her scar. "I know what that feels like, Beth. Wantin' to die. It ain't wrong, you know."

Daryl stands up suddenly, starting to unbutton his shirt, taking it off and turning around. There, on his back were deep ridges and valleys of several scars, thick with mangled tissue. They ran randomly from his shoulders to his waist, all but the space above them where his tattoos lay. An angel and devil, he and Merle. She knew that without explanation, the tattoo a reminder of his past, his present. The man he had grown to become, despite all his demons.

"Daryl," she gasps, reaching out to touch them, curling her arms around his waist, kissing every scar just as he had done to her.

"I needed you to see too," Daryl said, his voice strained with emotion, "I've got scars too, darlin'. We all got burdens to bare."

He turns to face her, taking her in his arms, a clash of their mouths, tongues intermingling. Beth's legs wrapping around his torso. Their clothes fall away slowly, shedding their pasts along with them, starting a new together, unlike anything Beth had imagined or fantasized about. Daryl was more gentle, more loving than she had ever anticipated. Kissing her everywhere, nipping at her collarbone, sucking at her nipples greedily.

Lowering himself between her legs, Daryl plants gentle kisses starting from the bottom of her feet, stopping to give her ankles and the soft spot behind her knees special attention, leaving her giggling and begging for him to stop.

"Hold still, girl. Trust me, yer gonna thank me fer this later," he growls, slowly nudging her legs apart.

"What are you doing?" she breathes, pushing herself on her elbows to get a better look at him.

"Really?" he smirks, gently kissing her inner thigh, slowly working his way to her center. "Girl, you're even more naive than I give ya credit for."

Beth knew what he was doing, sure, but it was never something she had experienced herself. Her relationship with Jimmy had been brief and even though she had gone down on him, he'd never returned the favor. She wasn't sure how to vocalize that to Daryl.

"I've never, nobody's ever-" she stammered, trying to find the strength to finish the sentence but she couldn't. "done _that_ to me before."

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Daryl said in disbelief, his eyes wide. Licking his lips, he looks back between her eyes and her body, the thought of being the first one to have her there making him harder than he'd ever been in his entire life.

Then he plunged into her, his tongue finding her clit with ease, one hand coming down on her hips, the other sliding to her nipple. Never had Beth experienced such a sensation, a sense of pleasure and yet discomfort all at once. She wasn't sure how to react at first, her hips bucking up like the times before when he had used his fingers on her, her body reacting involuntarily, becoming wetter with every swipe of his tongue.

When he pulls and tugs on her nipples harder, she can't help but yelp, startled by the sudden sensitivity, her body becoming more aroused. Closing her eyes tightly, Beth runs her hands through his hair as he licks her up and down, his tongue exploring every fold, every crevice, greedily sucking at the juices pooling there, his face and beard shining with her.

Feeling something building inside of her, something stronger, something so much more intense than anything he'd ever given her, her muscles begin to tighten.

"Mmm, ya like this, baby?" he hums into her, barely moving his mouth away. "Huh?"

Bringing a finger down to stroke her pussy, his tongue enters her, darting in and out, making her arch her back, shutting her eyes tightly as she called out.

" _Fuck, Daryl…"_

"Ya got the prettiest little pussy I've ever seen. So fuckin' tight. Mmm, always so wet for me." He smirks at her, pulling back to get a good look at her, mess of nerves before him, forever at his mercy, awaiting his touch. "Whatcha think 'bout me bein' the first one to lick yer pussy, huh?"

Cocking a brow at her, he pulls a hand back, smacking two fingers against her clit.

"I _said_ what do you think, girl?" Daryl says again with more intensity, running his fingers up and down her slit, keeping his eyes on her as he slowly spits there, rubbing it around her lips, barely dipping a finger inside her.

"It feels so good, Daryl," she whispered, her throat dry, struggling to answer him. "being with you makes me feel right, whole."

Licking her lips, she gulps, eyes locked on his. There was no one else she wanted to experience this with. The things she had felt for Daryl were indescribable, so much bigger than herself or anything she had ever known. Under his gaze, nothing else, no one else existed. Under his touch, they were the only two people in the world who mattered. Every fiber of her being wanted to nothing more than to have Daryl Dixon buried between her legs forever.

"You gonna come for me?" he asks, dipping two fingers into her, twisting them as he goes back to lick and suck on her clit.

"Yes, I think I'm close," she nods her head, shyly trailing a hand down her chest to tweak her nipple, missing the contact there but worried that he'd tell her no. "This okay?"

"Sure, baby. That's okay. You take care of them sweet little nipples fer me, okay?" he grins at her, going back to work, sucking with great intensity now, fingers curling up inside her.

His right arm on her waist attempts to keep her from throwing him off the couch, bucking her hips with every movement, her eyes lidded with pleasure, biting her lip and moaning.

"Daryl, I-"

"What do you want, baby doll?"

Beth struggles to get the words out, "I want more."

He adds a third digit, fucking her with his hands fully now, taking only a few moments to find the perfect spot, the one that leaves her speechless, eyes rolling back in her head, mouth agape in pleasure, no words audible for feeling running through her body.

Daryl keeps going well until she rides out her second orgasm, finally pulling his fingers out of her crawling back up her body to plant a gentle kiss on her lips.

Beth had never tasted herself before, let alone on someone else's lips. The thought of something like that might have seemed gross to her, before this, before Daryl, but it was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen. His eyes dark and sultry, hooded with desire.

Sitting himself up he pulls her onto his lap, "Here, baby," he instructs, "I want you to be able to set the pace, enjoy this."

"Daryl, I don't know, I don't-" she stutters, panic setting it. She trusted him but she hadn't expected him to want her to do this right off the bat, knowing she was inexperienced.

"Go on, girl. If yer disappointed we'll stop, alright?" he huffs, his scurvy demeanor shining through.

"That's not what I'm worried about," she bites her lip as he helps her to arch her back with his one hand, the other sliding himself against her clit.

"Put yer hands behind me," he tells her.

Nodding her head and gulping, she shakily lifts her hands on the couch behind his shoulders.

"Good girl," Daryl growled, kissing her neck forcefully, sweat beginning to stick to their bodies, trailing down her skin.

She shudders as he begins to enter her, just allowing the tip of his cock to barely dip inside her.

"I'm sorry I fucked up. I know yer my girl now. Know you ain't gonna do that shit to me." he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes ridden with guilt.

"You're all I want," she manages to breathe out, gasping for breath, the sensation of his fingers tugging on her nipples already overwhelming the other sensations she's experiencing, "You're everything, Daryl."

He thrusts inside her fully, filling her up, letting out a loud hiss, amazed but not at all shocked or surprised by how tight she is. Slowly, he pulls out of her, almost completely, only to slam back into her, repeating the process several times, her body shaking and writhing with pleasure.

Putting his hands on her hips, he starts to move them, showing her what to do, helping her set a pace. After a couple of minutes she catches on, trying her best to keep him from slipping out, letting out a couple of giggles when he does, warranting a couple of hard slaps on the ass from Daryl.

"C'mon girl, there ya go," he mumbles, moving with her.

Beth leans forward a little more, trying to find the right angle, moving her hips faster, discovering she'd found the right one.

"Oh, fuck..."

"See?" he laughs at her, kissing her cheek. "There ya go, move yer hips just like that."

Beth arches her back, doing as he says, working her hips, pushing herself deep against him, slowly sliding back up again, almost completely sliding off, clenching around his tip with her muscles.

"Fuck, girl. Just like that," he shudders, cupping her ass to pull her cheeks apart, thrusting up into her, taking a moment to enjoy her on top of him.

Beth continues pumping herself up at down, finding just the perfect angle to roughly hit her clit at the same time, a hazy smile breaking out on her lips.

"Tell me how much you like this, baby," he whispers, running his hands over her ass, letting her keep the pace. "Tell me what you want."

"Uh, fuck," Beth gasped, the tension inside of her building with every thrust. "I want you to hold my hands down, like before."

"Forgot to get the rope," he breathes out, "you remembered I said I was gonna tie ya up, huh?"

She nods her head, "Uh-huh."

"Yer such a good girl, ya know that? I'm a piece of shit fer ever doubting you," he whispers into her hair, running his fingers through it, pulling it to the side to kiss her neck.

"No, don't say that," Beth gasps, her orgasm becoming evident with every thrust.

"Gonna give ya everything ya ever wanted, Beth. Ya fucking deserve it," he grumbles, meeting her thrusts match for match now.

"Daryl, I-fuck…" she cries out, holding onto him tightly as the comes, the walls of her pussy contracting around him.

The sounds of his desperate grunts showed he was close behind, stopping to flip her on her side, their mouths and tongues tangled in a frenzy of passion. Using one arm, he hoists up her left leg, thrusting into her deeper, something she hadn't thought possible, both of them moaning, Daryl bottoming out, whispering what could have only been her name. At the time she was in such a haze, completely engulfed in him, her senses blurred with a total sense of bliss.

He pulls out slowly, kissing her from the knob of her spine all the way up to her neck and shoulders, stopping at her lips.

"Wow," she breathes out when they finally pull apart.

Daryl smirks at her, caressing her cheek with his fingers. "Yer fuckin' beautiful, ya know that?"

Beth grins, leaning into his chest, closing her eyes and savoring the moment, savoring every second, every minute. They stay there for a moment, holding each other, Daryl breathing in deeply, in complete disbelief the woman in his arms was his.

"Too soon to ask ya to spend the night?"

She pulls back, still smiling. "I was hopin' you had, 'cause Maggie already agreed to cover for me. Otherwise I'd have to come up with an excuse to go back home."

"No way in hell, girl. Tonight, yer mine," he scoffs, pulling her on top of him, wrapping his arms around her fully.

Beth giggles into the kiss, wanting to hear him say those words over and over again. No matter what happened, this was the only place she ever wanted to be, in Daryl Dixon's arms.


	17. Chapter 17

Beth awoke curled up next to Daryl, her head burrowed into his chest, rising and falling gracefully with every breath. She blinked a few times, trying to gather her surroundings. Having never spent the night at a man's house before, the situation felt unfamiliar to her, awkward even. Smiling to herself, she recanted the events from the night prior, Daryl's hands all over her body, the tension from the emotional turmoil dissipated, leaving them with a truly fresh start. That thought in and of itself calmed her nerves a little bit.

Slowly untangling herself from his limbs, she looked around the dark room for her clothes, remembering they were still by the couch. Picking up one of his shirts from the floor, she slips it on, tip toeing to the bathroom carefully.

Not wanting to be too much of a snoop, Beth quickly peed and washed her hands, rinsing the taste of morning breath out of her mouth with some of his mouthwash. Was this what a morning after was supposed to feel like? Restless and strange, in a new place with a man she'd just slept with the night before?

Shaking her head, she bites her lip, trying to remember Maggie's tales of walks of shame, waking up next to a guy she'd only told to go fuck himself the night before, her judgement impaired by alcohol. She wasn't in a situation like that though. Beth was with someone she genuinely cared about, someone she wanted to build something with.

That was a little scary to think about, now that they'd reached that first obstacle. No longer was she standing alone against the world, the very edge, waiting to jump off at any moment. Now she had Daryl there, holding her hand, keeping her from falling. Assuring her that things could be better, could be more than what she'd had in her life before. Daryl was something new, a concept to her like happiness, unattainable and elusive, relationships something only other people around her experienced successfully.

Looking back at herself in the bathroom mirror, she tried to memorize her expression, every line, every pore in her skin. Never did she want to forget the moment she first woke up beside Daryl Dixon.

The shirt she'd picked up off the ground was a thin, white undershirt. The material soft and worn, drenched in his scent, intoxicating her with every breath she took. Nothing about being enveloped in that warmth, that scent, reminded her how safe she was. It was a reminder that she could finally take a moment to breathe, to take everything in for what it truly was.

The braid she'd attempted to put her hair in sometime during the night had come apart, once golden curls a rat's nest begging to be untangled. Remnants of mascara and eyeliner smudged around her eyes, no doubt from the tears she'd shed the night before. Then and now, she'd never felt more vulnerable. More naked. More exposed.

Maybe it should have bothered her, but it didn't. This was the part of her that she'd been afraid to show anyone else. The dark, scary angry side of her that sent most people away kick and screaming. This was the part of her that she'd been too afraid to show anyone her entire life, no matter how many people had tried to work their way in, find the answer to the secrets she could never muster the strength to speak. Looking in her mind, waiting to fire through her chest, the words shooting through her esophagus like a cannon ball, shooting out her mouth, fire breathing for all to see. The secret out at last, everyone would know who Beth truly was, what her demons were. Staring them all in the face, no qualms of going back to the darkness in which they'd be born.

Daryl had strode forward into those flames, not an ounce of fear on his face, ready to fight, ready to stare down any door, any ferocious monster to make his way to Beth, only to discover that there was no dragon, that she was not a damsel in distress and he not a knight in shining armor. No, she knew that was never true.

He'd taught her to look those demons in the eyes. Took her hand and stood tall, his callous fingers warm, reminding of her loneliness, an ugly thing from her past, no reason to ever look back at it now.

Combing her hands through her hair, Beth is able to secure it into a somewhat presentable braid, wishing her clothes were closer by. She'd have to make due for the time being, not wanting to wake him by opening the bedroom door.

In this sense, Daryl was a lot like a sleep dragon as well. His demons, his fire lying deep within his belly too. Sure, he'd only shown her a tiny sliver of himself, his past, the things that kept the darkness in his eyes, but it was enough to show her that he was just as every bit as lonely, as desperately lonely as she had been. That look behind his eyes hadn't been sympathy that first day, but apathy. He had seen a piece of himself in Beth that day, willing to hash it all out, even on herself. Willing to go into battle and make every mark, every scar matter.

Tiptoeing back into bed, she slowly lifts the covers to crawl back beside him, the dark outline of his body stirring with the sudden movement.

His eyes open, just barely, blinking a few times to get used to the little bit of light coming in from the bottom of the curtains. Extending a hand to caress her face, she leans into him, his touch resurfacing memories from the night before.

"What ya doin' up this early, hmm? It's Saturday, ain't ya supposed to sleep in?" he grumbles at her, his hand trailing at her collar bone, dipping beneath the thin shirt, fingers scratching at her skin.

"Mmm, I'm a little restless," she whispers back, already feeling herself getting worked up.

"Whatcha gotta be restless for, hmm girl? Didn't give ya enough last night?" he grins, fingers delving deeper, teasing her with every stroke.

"I don't know," Beth laughs a little, feeling light headed suddenly, "I've never woken up with a man before. I don't know what a morning after is supposed to be like."

He sits up a little now, slinking forward to put his other hand on her bare hip, abandoned panties long forgotten. Slowly making his way towards her chest, she shudders at the sensation of his rough fingers against her nipples, taut and stiff begging for his attention. Beth moans, grinning down at him while he works, tugging harder, gauging her reaction with every movement.

"Don't matter what it's supposed to be like," he growls, his face becoming more serious as his touch intensifies, "we getta make the rules, baby doll. It's supposed to be however you want it to be."

Daryl stretches the shirt over her head, catching her in a hard kiss, lips bruising against hers, lips still red and swollen from the night before, tongues fighting for dominance, Beth finds herself able to keep up for the first time. Her lips matching his kiss for kiss, hungrier and more desperate than before, wanting nothing but more of him.

Pulling back suddenly, he grips her small shoulders in his big, bulky hands. One of the things she'd loved the most about his touch is how helpless and small she feels at times, like glass. Like he could break her at any second but every part of her knows that he won't.

"It don't gotta be about anything but what you want, Beth. That's all I wanna do, be able to give ya whatever ya need," he licks his lips, looking nervous now, the words coming out more careful and calculated than she's ever seen them. "All I wanna do is be able to make ya happy, Beth. I think ya deserve that much."

Nodding her head, she pulls herself against his chest, tears falling she hadn't realized were there before, the passion building inside her subsiding with the emotions coming to surface.

"I know, and I wanna make ya happy too," Beth smiles, laughing softly as she wipes the tears against his skin, "from the second we met, that was all I wanted. Any excuse to be near you."

Kissing the top of her head, he laughs, gritty and gravelly, the sweetest sound. She could listen to that deep, throaty laugh all day if he'd let her.

"We're gonna figure this out, me and you," Daryl tells her, pulling the blankets back over them, wrapping his arms around her tightly, "gonna talk to your dad, to Dale. Everything is gonna fall into place, alright?"

Beth knew showing back up at home after lunch would probably leave her father with some questions, even if he had thought she'd stayed the night at Maggie's. Normally she'd be home by ten, leaving Glenn and Maggie snoozing late into the afternoon, especially on a weekend.

Despite her sister's initial disapproval for Beth's relationship, she was so glad she had someone else on her side other than Daryl now. No longer having to try to hide her feelings, able to confide her feelings in Maggie.

Hershel was sure to be more of an obstacle. There was not a doubt in her mind he would put up a fight, shame his youngest daughter for being involved with a man fifteen years her senior, a rough around the edges grease monkey, like he'd said, a good for nothing redneck. Beth knew none of those things were true, insecurities of his weighing down on her. His defense mechanisms against her holding true, his first response to push her away, make her rethink her feelings for him but there was no doubt in her mind Daryl was exactly who she wanted. He was who she needed, at that point.

Maybe once her father had the chance to look past those things, the things that sat on the surface, maybe he could see what a strong, brave, caring man Daryl was. Maybe her father could see how much Daryl cared about Beth, how much he was willing to do for her.

Making her way up the porch, she already sees him waiting for her, concerned expression and mug of coffee waiting.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he chimed the second the closed the door behind her.

"Hi, Daddy," Beth responded, placing a small kiss on her father's cheek before helping herself to a cup.

"All is well at your sister's, I hope? Glenn patched up that spot under the porch? If another critter gets stuck under there, I think Maggie might give the landlord a heart attack, screamin' and hollerin' like that."

"Yeah, Daddy, Glenn took care of it. Or at least I didn't hear any possums scratching while I was over there."

He lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head, "Those two wear me down, Bethy. Living in that house and they're not even married. You think he'd at least make an honest woman out of her."

Not wanting to get on her father's bad side without even having presented the idea of meeting Daryl, she decided not to tell him that maybe they weren't ready and would get married on their own time, if they decided that was what they wanted. Leave it to Hershel to put them down for living their lives, happy and content just being together.

"Well, ya never know, Daddy. Maybe they'll surprise you."

"I'm not holding my breath for anything, Beth. Your sister was never one to do anything traditionally." Hershel laughs, taking a big sip from his mug. "At least you'll always be the tamer one between the two of my daughters."

Following a silence, Beth is unsure how to respond, feeling smaller and more like a child than ever. Leave it to her father to bring down Maggie, compare the two of them and weasel his way into her head, manipulating every thought on the way.

"Daddy?" Beth says softly.

"Hmm?" he asks, looking up from his thoughts.

"There's somebody I want you to meet. Someone I've been seeing?" she asks nervously, her hands sweating profusely against the ceramic mug. Beth grips it tighter in her hands, worried it will fall if she says another word.

"Oh yeah? Well, that's the right thing to do, honey. If you're spending time with someone I'd rather you bring him here first. Not run around under my nose," Hershel answers, turning to face his daughter.

"That's the honorable thing, took Maggie nearly two months to bring that boy of hers over here," he adds.

"How about Monday evening? For dinner?"

"Let your mother know, I'm sure it's not a problem," he says, going back to his newspaper.

"Okay," she says, nodding her head.

"Don't worry, honey. I won't put him through the run around too much," Hershel chuckles, "young man has to make it through me before I let him run off with my little girl, don't I? Suppose that's my job."

Beth didn't dignify her father with an answer, climbing the stairs two at a time, trying to escape the thought of her father finding out about Daryl. This was like the calm before the storm, soon he would see what was really lying under the surface of the water.

That Monday afternoon, Beth rushed home from work, anxious to get herself ready for the evening ahead of her. Hershel had known Jimmy and his family for years, when he and Beth dated in high school, there had never been any reason for any of this 'meet the parents' business, but considering the situation at hand, she knew this was entirely different.

There would have been no way to bring this up to Hershel delicately. How could she have waltzed in the morning after, surly smelling like tobacco and musk, oil and Daryl, everything a farmer's daughter is not supposed to come home wafting in like she'd just uncrumpled herself from his arms and ran home, just to say, _Daddy, I'm dating my boss and he's thirty-five._ Not caring who knew it, defiant and proud, probably looking foolish and childish.

This was the only way she could handle this, and she knew it. Maggie had promised she'd be there, without Glenn to help stand up for her, soften the blow to her father's cruel words, if needed. She'd done it for her so many times before, reminding their father that Maggie was a grown woman and could date and live with who she pleased. Hopefully now Maggie could return the same favor for Beth.

Braiding her hair low to her neck and donning her favorite blue dress for luck, Beth puts on a little bit of makeup, hoping her nerves will calm as time inches closer. The thought of Daryl being so close to getting there, meeting her parents and Maggie made her heart race. This was all actually finally happening and there was no turning back. Biting her lip and holding back a smile, she looked back in the mirror, unrecognizable to the young woman she saw before her.

Already, Beth knew she was growing. Changing. Evolving with every hurdle, her heart mending and repairing with every chance to build things with him, their lives slowly starting to intertwine with each other's one step at a time. This was all scary, very surreal, and very new to her, but knowing that he would be the one to experience it all with her made it it all the more worthwhile.

She's thankful she sees his truck from her bedroom window before someone else has the chance to greet him. Quickly throwing on her shoes and heading down the hallway, she peeks into her parents room, seeing her father still engrossed in a book from earlier, her mother and Maggie in the kitchen putting finishing touches on dinner.

Slipping past them out the front door, she meets him as he parks. Before he even opens the door, she can see the anxiety written all over his face.

Daryl has on black denim, free from holes for once, his work boots and a long sleeve red and black flannel. From the looks of it, she'd thought maybe he'd even combed his hair. He definitely was nervous.

"Ya ready fer this, girl? 'Cause I sure ain't," he said, looking up at the farmhouse.

Having only ever dropped her off there once after the oil change those months ago, seeing her house up close was a strange feeling. It made everything that much more real for the both of them. The reality of the situation shocking like the nippy breeze at their cheeks.

"Ready as I'll ever be, Mr. Dixon," she grinned at him, nudging his ribs with her elbow.

"Should I be ready to run? He got a shotgun ready fer me?"

"No, but don't be surprised if he's not exactly keen on the idea right away. I'm a little nervous."

They walk slowly up to the porch, trying to keep as much distance from the house as they can before they've got no choice but to go inside.

"What did ya tell him?"

"Not a whole lot. I figured it would be better for you to just meet, then we'd figure things out from there."

He lets out a deep sigh, running his hands through his hair. "Set me up fer failure, huh?"

"No," she laughs, lacing her hand with his, "I wanna do this with you, it's up to me, right?"

He'd recalled the words he'd said to her a couple mornings prior. It was true, it was up to Beth. Things with her father needed to be on her terms. It didn't matter if he was feeling anxious, this was a much bigger deal to her than it was to him. Sure, he cared about her and wanted things to go well, but he knew her father wouldn't likely be too happy about their age difference. Or the fact that she was his secretary.

"Yer right. It is up to you. And that's how we're gonna do this. Any way you want," he says, squeezing her hand.

Leading Daryl into the kitchen, she found her mother and Maggie waiting for them, making no attempts to hide the grins on their faces.

"Hello!" Annette greeted warmly, almost unable to contain her excitement. "You must be Beth's friend! Please come in!"

"Uh, yeah. I'm Daryl," he said awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, releasing his hand from Beth's. "Thanks fer havin' me."

"Of course! Please, sit down!" she exclaims excitedly, filling up a glass of ice. "I hope you like sweet tea!"

"'Course, this is Georgia, ain't it?"

"Ya hear that, Bethy? A man after my own heart," Annette says to Beth, a big smile on her face.

Maggie made a face at Beth from behind her mother, rolling her eyes.

"Uh, Daryl, this is my sister, Maggie."

He waves and gives her an awkward smile.

"Hi, Daryl," she smiles back, shaking her head.

"So, you work down at the pizza place with Glenn?" Annette asks.

Daryl furrows his brows, the thought of Beth's mother confusing him with Zach not exactly thrilling him.

"No, Momma," Beth corrects her, clearing her throat. "Daryl manages the auto shop."

She lifts her eyebrows and smiles awkwardly when her mother doesn't say anything for a moment, registering that Daryl wasn't whom she thought he was.

"Oh, okay! Well, that's great! How long have you been doing that for, Daryl?" she asks him, going back to making a salad for dinner.

"About ten years now, give er take. Do custom work on the side, too."

"So Bethy is your secretary then?" she smiles, winking at her daughter.

"Momma, please!" Beth shrieks, completely mortified.

If this was how her mother was going to react, she couldn't possibly imagine how her father was going to respond.

"Ya, well she's a damn good one," Daryl mumbles, his face crimson red.

"Don't mind me givin' you a hard time. I'm just a warm up for Beth's father, I promise you that much."

As if on cue, Hershel walks into the kitchen from his study, immediately taken aback by the man sitting at his table next to his youngest daughter.

Daryl gets up to meet him, shaking his hand.

"Nice to meet you, sir," he says, stepping back to gauge the old man's reaction. "Name's Daryl Dixon."

Hershel nods his head, handing his cane to his wife and settling down at the table. He sits there for a moment in silence, looking to his daughter.

"Hope my wife hasn't been too much of a handful," Hershel says, grins awkwardly but somehow genuine.

Daryl doesn't sense a single shred or anger or surprise, no tone of bitterness towards him for being there. It's strange to pick up on, something he can't put his finger on but it doesn't help his anxiety any and he can feel Beth shaking beside him, her bony knees knocking against him.

"Not at all, sir. You should see the run around my brother puts poor Beth through on a daily basis," Daryl says, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

"Good! That's what I like to hear. Keep the girl on her toes!" Hershel chuckles. "You work down at the shop, Daryl?"

"Yes, Sir. I uh, manage the shop," he says quickly, making it known that he is indeed Beth's boss. "And I do custom work on the side."

Hershel nods his head several times, taking a sip of his tea. "Automotive work is a fine profession. Always somebody out there who needs work done. Dale owns the place, right?"

"Yeah," Daryl says, "Dale Horvath. He's retired now but he still controls most of the inner workings of the place. Stops by about once a week."

"Had the truck towed there a couple times, few years back. Never met the man myself, but I've heard good things," he says.

"Dale is a good man. Little old fashioned at times, but he's got a good head on his shoulders."

Hershel chuckles. "I've had the same said about myself time and time again, son. Can't say it's a bad quality. 'Course I wish he'd get Bethy a proper computer."

"I'm working on it, Mr. Greene. Been talking to him about it for a while now, one he thinks it's his idea, he'll be interested."

"Call me Hershel, son. It's nice to know my daughter is working somewhere people still have work ethic. I can see that's not a problem with you though," Hershel said, winking at Daryl.

All things considering, the dinner went better than he could have expected. Although, he noticed during the majority of the evening, Hershel steered the conversation, only looking to Daryl for reciprocation, his daughters sitting there looking bored out of their minds, Beth seeming a little less apprehensive, often looking over at Daryl with a sweet smile of encouragement.

As Beth and Maggie helped their mother clean up the dishes, Hershel and Daryl stood on the back porch, Hershel loading his pipe with tobacco.

"I don't want you to think the age difference bothers me," Hershel said, puffing the pipe, "because it doesn't."

Daryl nodded his head, unsure of what to say. It wasn't what he had expected him to come right out and say. Hershel wasn't one to beat around the bush, Daryl had now found out.

"Beth's mother is twenty years younger than I am. If I said it bothered me, I'd be one hell of a hypocrite, wouldn't I, son?" he asks, leveling his eyes to make contact with Daryl's.

"Guess so," he mumbles, pulling out a cigarette from his pack and lighting it up.

They stand in silence for a moment, both men enjoying their respective smokes. Daryl takes in the rolling hills of the farmland, trying to imagine Beth as a child, running around. He liked her family, he'd hoped they'd liked him too. Sure, her father could be overbearing, still treating Beth like a child, but Daryl could see it was out of love, out of the need to protect her.

"I don't know how much she's told you about her past, about treatment," Hershel begins, "she's been hurtin' herself for a long time. Never understood it, no matter how hard I tried to. No matter how many books I read or doctors I talked to, couldn't understand why a girl like that, so beautiful, so smart, would wanna go doin' somethin' like that to herself."

He shakes his head, letting out a deep breath. Daryl had known, he'd known Beth had been in treatment prior to being hired at the shop, he'd known that she'd cut herself for a long time, but all of these details coming to light scared him. He couldn't help but feel a sense of loss, an emptiness in his chest, the loss of air, the need to hold Beth there, to keep her safe and protected, always. He understood why he father was so lost, so confused.

"Sometimes, people don't know why they do things either," Daryl grumbles, clearing his throat.

"First time I caught her, first time I really saw it myself, she was supposed to be in school. Came home early to get some paperwork for a client to find her hiding in the crawl space above the attic. She'd butchered her arm, drunk herself into a stupor on some cheap booze she'd stolen from her sister. Couldn't believe what I was seeing. She wasn't my Beth. She hadn't been for a long time," he shakes his head again, that dead look in his eyes a sobering realization.

"Could barely understand a word that came out of her mouth but she just kept telling me how sorry she was. How she hated herself for being like this. How am I supposed to help her? She's almost twenty-one now and I'm prayin' every day I don't come home to find her hiding somewhere else."

"She ain't doin' it anymore," Daryl says, gulping hard. "Promised me she wouldn't."

"I hope fer the both of us, she keeps that promise 'cause that's one we've all heard time and time again."

Daryl can't help but feel hurt at that last comment, wanting nothing but to believe the words that came from Beth's mouth. He'd known she hadn't done anything since that first day he'd caught her. It wasn't his job to police her body, to look for cuts and scars, any indication that she'd changed her mind and decided to wage war on her body yet again. He knew he couldn't be like that. He trusted her.

On the drive back to Daryl's apartment, he's quiet, thinking about everything Hershel had said, Beth chattering softly about the evening, generally pleased with how it played out.

"I'm sorry my mom was so blunt about everything, she can be like that sometimes," Beth says, looking out the mirror at the scenery going by.

Daryl can't help but notice how frail and small she looks in the dim light illuminating the truck from the streetlights, but he knows that's only her outer appearance. He knows that inside is a girl, a woman, who is much stronger than anyone gives her credit for. It's not his job to put her in that box, in that category of someone who can't think for themself. Someone who can't take care of themselves. He knows that's not Beth.

"It went fine, baby doll. Both yer parents seem real nice," he says, reaching for her hand, lacing her small fingers with his.

"What did you and my daddy talk about? Out on the porch?" she asked.

"He was tellin' me about you bein' in treatment." Daryl says bluntly.

He wasn't about to lie to her. That's not what this relationship was about, and not for a second would Daryl keep anything from her.

"Oh," she says softly, looking down at her feet.

"Hey," Daryl says, getting her attention, "if ya think somethin' yer dad has to say is gonna scare me off, yer dead wrong, girl."

"Doesn't make it any less hard to deal with," Beth sighs, looking back out the window.

They drive in silence for a while longer until they arrive, Daryl parking the truck and coming around to open the door for her.

He watches her intently, every step closer they get to his apartment giving him a sense of relief. There's nothing he wants more than to wrap her up in his arms, hold her close and never let the harsh realities of this world hurt her again, but he knows good and well she's already been chewed up and spit out by the word, the tiny, and some not to tiny, scars a map of that past. Drawing out a detailed story of her downfall, a map that shows her decent. X marks the spot, he thinks, the last scar being the one there on her thigh.

Daryl knows it's healed now, probably not even deep enough to leave anything behind, but he still feels responsible for that one, knowing his words sent her over the edge.

One hand on the small of her back, the fiddles with his keys, struggling to get the front door open, his mind a wash with worry for this girl, this woman. _His_ woman.

"You okay?" she asks him, her voice bringing him back to reality.

Things were okay now, she was okay now. It was a scary realization, but he knew that. They would be okay.

"Yeah," he smirks, finally getting the door open.

Letting her in and closing it behind her, Daryl makes his way to the kitchen, opening a beer. He lets out a deep sigh before taking a long gulp.

She watches him from the couch, her shoes kicked off,

"Feels weird, huh? Me being allowed to be here without having to lie about it."

"Yeah, pretty fuckin' weird," he smirks.

They stand there in silence for a while longer, Daryl drinking his beer, Beth sitting there watching him.

"Take off yer dress," he orders, suddenly.

"My dress?" she asks, standing up.

"Yeah, take it off," he says, gruffly, wiping his mouth with the band of his hand.

She nods her head, doing as she's told. Unzipping her dress and stepping out of it, she folds it neatly, carefully taking off her tights next. Watching her every movement, he takes it all in, memorizing every line and every curve of her body, silently worshipping her from the kitchen, every inch of her a holy thing to him. Something to be thankful for, something to to cherish.

Rummaging through the kitchen drawer, Daryl retrieves the rope he'd gotten for this very occasion. From the first time he'd told he he'd wanted to tie her up, he'd been saving it. Now seemed like the perfect time, the perfect moment to get her all to himself, truly just the two of them, obstacles aside.

She bites her lip as he presents it to her, sitting down beside her. He motions for her to sit in his lap, as she's done so many times before.

"Good girl," he coos, encouraging her submissive behavior. "Hands here."

He puts her hand tightly in front of her, feeling her breath hitch, nerves floating to the surface.

"Yer alright, this rope is soft, ain't gonna hurt ya," he tells her, fastening the knot into place securely over her wrists.

He sets her on his lap, face down, the cold air from the apartment ghosting over her skin in contrast to the warm man underneath her. He keeps one hand at her waist, like he often does, the other running up and down her legs, slowly teasing her, inching up towards her bottom.

Daryl lets out a shaky breath, his hand following it's uneasy movement. Under his grip he can feel her anticipating, _needing_ his touch. He wasn't sure how the two of them had gotten to this moment together, everything so messy, so confusing initially when what they both needed was so simple, so very clear and so completely evident between them.

The first hit takes them both by surprise. It's different from before, more therapeutic, Daryl feeling himself shudder with every blow, whispering to her things she can't quite make out between the grunts and moans that escape her throat as much as she tries to hold them back. What he's giving to her, is something different now. It's all of him, everything he has to keep the storm inside her at bay.

It's not about control with them, from the start it never has been. They find a balance in each other, in that want, that need for release, for acceptance, to fill that darkness inside with a light neither of them knew existed before this. Daryl had hoped, had caught a glimpse of what that could be like, but now that he had her there, in his arms, he knew this was just as much for him as it was for her. Beth was that light, that beacon, _she_ was the anchor.

" _Beth,"_ he growls, his voice thick with emotion, "I can't lose you, I can't."

She turns her head to face him, his grip no longer tight around her waist, his face ridden with sadness, with grief.

"I'm right here, Daryl," she whispers, "I'm not goin' anywhere. Don't see how I can when ya got me tied up, huh?"

He gives her a grin, holding back that sadness, that remorse, as much as it kills him not being in control, all of his thoughts and emotions, his feelings for her becoming so very real now.

His one hand that had abandoned her waist was now at her neck, softly caressing the peach fuzz there, leaning down to kiss the top of her spine.

"Ain't gonna let anything happen' to ya, girl," he said in a broken tone, somehow sounding strong at the same time.

"Daryl," she whispers, "I-I'm not gonna hurt myself anymore, you know that, right?"

"I ain't gonna lie, baby doll. What yer daddy said to me tonight scared me. Stupid of me to think I can fix ya, make ya not hurt 'cause of me."

Beth shifts in his lap to face him, her small, rope bound hands fingering the buttons of his shirt. Her large, doe-like eyes looking up at him, she nervously licks her lips.

"This is different, Daryl," she says softly. "I don't understand why you make me feel the way you do but when I'm with you, when we," she pauses, looking for the right words, "figure things out together, I don't feel like I need to hurt myself anymore."

Beth looks down, her lashes so long they kiss her cheeks softly, brushing against her rosy skin. He brings a hand to caress her there with two fingers, agonizingly slowly.

"You don't want to," he asks, fingers stroking the scars on her wrists, partly covered by rope, "kill yourself?"

"No, I don't," she answers confidently, shaking her head. "Not anymore."

"You promise?" he asks, kissing her knuckles, her fingertips, never taking his eyes off hers.

"Yes, I promise," she smiles, laughing softly at the scruff of his beard tickling her skin. "This is the only place I want to be."

"Where? My lap?" he asks, more relaxed now, his tone going back to playful and mischievous, no longer consumed by thoughts of worry.

"Yes, your lap," she says, chuckling, rolling back onto her stomach.

"Fuck," he hisses, cupping her ass with his palm. "Yer such a good girl fer me."

Beth smiles, relishing in this moment, his touch like nothing she's ever experienced. She knows he doesn't want to believe he has the power to make her feel better, actually whole for the first time ever. The things her father said to him would have to slide off of her conscience tonight. Daryl might not have been the whole reason for this new found sense of security, but he was certainly a contributing factor.


	18. Chapter 18

Beth almost couldn't help but giggle underneath his grip. Something about this whole night had her feeling light, airy despite the dark cloud her father had tried to dampen Daryl's perception of her. Sure, they'd only skimmed the surface of the obstacles awaiting their future but now that those barrier were broken, those walls were down, she wasn't sure how to feel.

"What are ya doin'? Squirmin' around like that, huh?" Daryl smirks, giving her a firm slap on her left ass cheek. "Ya better be good, ya hear?"

She stifles a giggle, trying to stay still. Every second, every moment, she feels herself falling harder and hard for this man.

A part of her wants to be absolutely terrified of him, because she knows she should be. Things like this were often fleeting - two people meeting, fighting and overcoming their mutual demons together, the thought of love, the chance to care about someone more than you care about yourself the ultimate outcome. But Beth had seen that time and time again, in and out of treatment.

Group sessions where women would talk about their partner's inability to deal with the darkness inside them. The thing that made them detach, unhinge from themselves, unable to do anything but wage the war inside their heads, taking it out on themselves most likely, their loved ones a causality of the illness, the relationship crumbling to the bitter end.

Was that what her daddy was doing? Setting them up for failure? Putting thoughts like that in their minds. Poisoning Daryl's image of her completely, she'd worried. Maybe this would turn out to be too much for him? Too difficult to handle?

"I feel ya thinkin," he growls, dropping his mouth to her ear as he fiddles with the elastic band on her panties, running his fingers over her reddened bottom. "Always thinkin' too damn much. Just be here with me."

She gulps nodding her head, giving him a small smile as she turns her head to look at him.

As much as she absolutely hated that feeling of being coddled, being treated like a child when she was and had been a grown woman for some time, deep down a part of her understood it. Maybe her father was trying to manipulate them both. Making things seem fine, as if he's not opposed to the relationship, if only to scare off Daryl, warding him off with the details of her past.

Beth did not want to be that naive child anymore. Too quiet, too weak to stand up to him and tell him the truth. Not that she really knew what the truth was anymore. Being with Daryl, here and now, really was like starting over. A fresh start, her chance to start a life anew with someone who knew all her demons, and still wanted her close to him. That would have to trump any and all insecurities she'd had.

"Baby doll?" he says, interrupting her thoughts. "Ya alright?"

"Yes," she breathes out deeply, trying her best to leave those thoughts there in her mind. Make herself more present, bring herself back to him.

He leans down to plant a series of kisses on her neck, behind her ears, stopping to nip and her earlobe.

"None of that shit means anything to me, girl. I trust ya, ain't gonna scare so easy. Yer daddy may be a clever man thinking he can mess with my head like that, but I ain't gonna toss ya to the side the first chance I get, hmmm?"

"I know, I'm sorry but-"

"Will you just relax, girl?" he murmurs, sliding her panties down her hips agonizingly slowly, knowing he's absolutely torturing her. She knows regardless of the implications, he loves this. Loves being in control, loves trying to figure out what's going on in her head.

And vice versa. As much as she tells herself she's got Daryl figured out, he always surprises her. And he does.

Slapping her ass, hard before her panties have even made their way off her legs she jumps, taken aback by the sudden brute force. Beth relishes in the sting, that delicious, absolutely addicting sensation that only he can supply her with.

"There we go," he chuckles, rubbing the spot he'd just stuck before indulging in another slap.

And she melts into him. Melts into his lap and suddenly, all those thoughts, all the doubts in her mind completely drift away. Under his touch, under his gaze, nothing else matters to her now.

"Good girl," he coos, slowly beginning the dance, the march of his fingertips, teasing her like before, only somehow so much more slowly.

His rough, callous fingers ghost the hair there, softly barely pressing down on her folds, caressing her up and down slowly, his breath deep and concentrated, she can feel his thoughts as well but she knows they're not of worry.

After a moment, his fingers delve deeper, exploring her slick folds, distributing her wetness, he stops to enter one finger inside her, pulling it out again.

" _Fuck_ ," he hisses using his one hand to pull her legs apart a little more. "I could spend all day buried inside this pussy, baby doll."

Her stomach drops, everything he says sends her over the edge but she can't help but swoon at those dirty words coming out of his mouth. She loves every word, every syllable, soaking them up, giving her almost as much pleasure as his touch. His words being a precious thing, immensely special to her, held to her chest like a secret, keeping them for moments apart, mementos of his passion.

"I don't think ya know what ya do to me, girl," Daryl growls, sliding his finger up to her already swollen, aching clit. "I wanna give ya everything. Wanna make ya feel everything there is."

She nods, gasping for breath, writhing in pleasure, completely wrapped up in everything that exists there between them, in that room, in his apartment.

He's not hard with her like before, his touch tender and devoted, worshiping this woman before him, immensely thankful for whatever he did to deserve someone like Beth Greene. Now that he had her, in his arms, his lap, he'd make sure he would do everything in his power to keep her there. And to keep her happy, safe and content. What those things meant for Beth yet, he did not know, but at least he could give her this.

From the start, from the beginning of their relationship, through the turbulence, the confusion could always be put aside in order to hash things out in their own way. Physically, this was the only way Daryl really knew what to do, how to help her. This was the best way he knew how to help her heal, to show her that she could still feel that pain, on her own terms, but in a different way.

"Mmmf," he sighs, still not getting what he needs, giving her want he knows she so desperately wants. "C'mere."

Daryl scoops her up, carrying her into this bedroom, laying her down on her back. He looks her up and down, her face flushed, her hair disheveled. Looking up and down her body, he sighs. Never in his life had he seen a woman more effortlessly beautiful than Beth.

"What?" she grins, watching him crawl towards the bed, discarding his shirt in the process.

"Wanna figure out how to get this bra off ya without cuttin' the ropes," he says, kissing her ankles and feet softly, nuzzling the scruff of his beard against her smooth calves.

"Guess you should have thought about that before you tied me up, huh?"

"Just thinkin' about cutting that bra off instead, what do ya think about that?" Daryl growls, taking his time behind her knee, knowing it's one of the spots that drives her crazy.

"Bras ain't cheap, ya know. Not that this is my favorite one or anything but, you don't have to go cuttin' it!" she laughs softly, eyes rolling back in her head as he moves his way up her thigh.

"Ya think I wouldn't get ya new ones, huh? Fuck, the thought of pickin' out bras and panties for ya might be a dangerous idea," he laughs, getting up to get something out of his bedside drawer, retrieving a small hunting knife.

He retracts the knife, the blade gleaming in the light. Something about that immediately sends a chill down her spine. Always pushing her a little further, the wolfish grin on his face only making her more nervous yet eager all at the same time.

Daryl returns to his spot on the bed, there between her bare legs, naked from the waist down, only the bra leaving her constricted. The ropes, she'd already become accustomed to, not unlike the feeling his his strong hands around her wrists, keeping her bound, keeping her together in one piece.

Running the cool steel up her skin, she shivers, goosebumps freckling every pore. He runs it over her shoulders, slicing one strap in an instant, then the other. She sucks a breath in, the thought of something she once saw as a thrill, an escape, any blade an old familiar friend, now in the hands of the man she'd come to trust most. Everything there in his hands.

The bra didn't leave much to the imagination to begin with, Beth being fairly small up top, she didn't find herself needing as much support. So when bra shopping with Maggie she'd gone for something simple and dainty. The front part between her breasts took two even cuts, the tip of the blade barely grazing her skin, leaving her head spinning. Daryl's hands steady and graceful, with such finesse she knew she had no reason to worry, but still the thought was there.

The second the fabric falls away from her body, she lets out the breath she was holding in, her body buzzing from the thrill of the blade on her skin. She grins, licking her lips and throwing back her head, holding back a low moan from the back of her throat.

"Ya like that a lot more than ya led on, I think," Daryl smirks, setting the knife down on the bedside table, turning his attention back to her.

"Oh shit," he says, looking down, a small trail of blood trickling down her chest, apparently more than a graze.

He wipes it away with his thumb, kissing her tenderly, always reminding her that with the control he had came that gentle, sensitive man, always eager to please her, to take care of her. Never had Beth felt that type of kindness, a man so seemingly rough on the exterior, but he'd shown her nothing but lovingness at that point. There was no other word for it.

"It's okay," she laughs against his lips, fervently pressing against him, her bound hands searching for his belt buckle.

"Hold on, baby. This ain't about me," he says, pulling her hands away but still undoing the buckle along with his pants.

"You always say that," she smirks, pulling back to lay against the pillows.

"Cause it's true. It's all fer you, Beth," he says bluntly, his eyes a little darker, maybe a little afraid of the bold comment he's just made.

She looks up at him, unsure what to say, feeling small and vulnerable with his eyes on her, awaiting some kind of response. Despite their prior declarations, she can't help but feel nervous at times, having a hard time finding the words inside her to describe her feelings for him. Obviously her feelings run deep, more so than anything else she's ever felt, but sometimes his intensity leaves her dumbfounded.

A man who's been so quick to hide his feelings, so muddled by his past, his scars running just as deep as hers, was willing to put that all behind him, to give everything up for her. In every way possible. She wanted to show him, wanted to explain that she too felt this devotion for him. This insufferable need to be near him, to feel his embrace, to hear his voice. His laugh, scratchy and gravely, always sending a warmth through her stomach, a sound so indescribably Daryl. Whether he was laughing at Merle for some trivial bullshit or snickering at her for being so sweet and naive, Beth loved every moment, every laugh.

How could she make him see these things? How could she tell him how she felt inside? So wanting to return this affection wholeheartedly, wanting to profess her infatuation, her growing need and want for this man.

"Why are you so good to me?" she gulps out, not really thinking, hating herself for what she'd just said. The words not coming out like she'd initially intended.

He pulls her closer, hands at her hips, grip strong and almost predatory. "Cause ya fuckin' deserve it," he growls, crashing into her lips.

Daryl pulls back, lifting her arms above her head, his hand at her bound wrists, he consumes her. Looking her up and down, the sly grin on this face sends shivers down her spine.

"Keep those arms up, sweetheart," he tells her, moving downwards to cup her whole pussy with his palm, rubbing it flat against her.

The sheer size of his hand in comparison to her is overwhelming. He slowly rubs up and down the length of the slit, already slick with need for him.

Sliding his middle finger in her for a moment, he watches her reaction, pulling it out slowly as he goes back to rubbing her fully with his entire palm, stopping to pay special attention to her clit.

" _Oh fuck,"_ she moans, eyes rolling backwards.

He chuckles sliding his tongue against her lips.

"I love to watch ya so fuckin' much, don't even care 'bout gettin off. Just wanna watch you."

She bottoms out, getting closer, her vision getting hazy as he leans down to take her nipple to his mouth.

"What do you want, baby doll?" he asks her, biting down on her nipple greedily.

"Mmm, I wanna come," she breathes out, unsure how she's even able to answer him.

"You wanna come? Okay, sweetheart. I'll let ya come, but I'm gonna get ya nice and wet first," he chuckles, increasing the speed of his hand, two fingers rocking inside her.

After a few moments, she finds herself screaming out loud, normally not as loud as this, arching backward as he uses his strong hand to hold her hips down as he continues, his hand moving more rapidly than ever, the second orgasm rolling in.

Daryl leans in to kiss her lazily, lapping his tongue against hers, fingers still circling her clit pressing firmly, unable to pull himself from her.

"Fuck," he chuckles, shaking his head.

Beth smiles at him, beaming, the endorphins overwhelming her with happiness, feeling so close to him. So thankful for every moment spent with him.

"Can't keep my hands off ya, girl," he growls, pulling her hands down and taking his fingers away from her to retrieve the knife.

He cuts the rope, freeing her, hands slipping behind his neck. His fingers find their way back to her center, two fingers pumping in and out, his thumb circling her clit.

"Mmm," she hums, licking her lips, completely spent, intoxicated from the aftershock, his fingers bringing her back to another climax.

Throwing her head back, she rides it out in his hand, already knowing she'd be completely raw in the morning with how gentle he's being at the same time, she doesn't care.

"Want you on top again. Wanna see ya ride me," he growls, pulling his fingers from her to get a condom from the bedside drawer. "What do ya think about that? Hmm, girl?"

Beth gulps hard, nodding her head. The first time she had done that she wasn't sure if she had done it correctly, trying so desperately to match the rhythm of his hips, bucking match for match, spreading her legs winder, sinking deeper and deeper into him. With Daryl, all she could try to do was act off of instinct because he made her feel so primal, so animalistic. Hopefully this time it would feel a little more natural.

He peels off his boxers, giving her a sly grin all the while, his hard cock springing free, eager for her. Stroking it a few times, he runs his fingers over the tip, his eyes hazy and full of lust. After a moment he stops to open the condom, rolling it on carefully.

Settling down on the bed next to her, Daryl pulls her into his lap so she's straddling him, rubbing the tip of his cock against her slit slowly, teasing her clit especially. Her breath becomes ragged, fingernails digging into his shoulders.

"I know, baby, yer so wet fer me," he says against her temple, kissing her hard there before he pulls her hips down, thrusting into him fully. "So fuckin' ready."

Beth closes her eyes for a moment, reveling in the sensation of feeling him fill her completely, making her feel whole. Licking her lips and fluttering her eyes open for a second, she sees him watching her, one hand on her hip, the other grazing her nipple, twisting and pulling hard.

As soon as she starts moving, his breath hitches, moaning deeply trying to get used to the feeling of him filling her up like that. The idea of being in control like this was new for her, Daryl watching her intently. Grinding into him a little harder, she starts moving her hips, bouncing up and down on his lap, trying to develop a steady rhythm.

"There you go," Daryl coaches, his rough hands kneading at her hips, the other moving to squeeze her reddened bottom.

" _Fuck,"_ she hisses, losing all sense of anxiety, thought abandoned for total and complete pleasure.

Beth goes a little faster now, becoming more desperate to meet the urgency rising deep within her.

"Hey, hey," he says, getting her attention. He looks her that mischievous grin as he thumbs her nipple. "Slow down, got all the time in the world, don't we?"

She slows down some, gulping hard. "I'm sorry it just feels so good," she says softly, running her fingers over his chest.

"Don't gotta be sorry fer nothin', girl," he smirks at her, slapping her ass firmly, resulting in a yelp from Beth. "Wanna make this last, ya know?"

Biting her lip and shaking her head, Beth chuckles to herself. Out of everything she'd ever heard about men, about sex, from Maggie or her friends, or her own slim series of experiences prior to Daryl, she'd never once thought that it could ever be like this. He was so focused, so concentrated on Beth and her needs, throwing his own needs to the wayside.

Finally, when she comes, she doesn't hold back this time, going as quickly as she pleases, Daryl's strong hands at her waist, her thighs, frantically moving to her center, finding her clit just in time, resulting in a series of cries from her. Arching backward, she yells out his name, again and again.

Quickly, her rolls her over onto her back, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along her neck, her jaw, stopping to press his lips to hers. It doesn't take long before he finishes, whispering inaudible things into her ears, hands moving all over her body. Still completely reeling from her own orgasm, Beth does her best to keep up with him, overwhelmed with emotion, with feeling.

When he finishes, he pulls out of her gently, discarding the condom and retreating back to the bed. Wrapping her up in the forgotten blankets, their breathing slowly returning back to normal. Daryl puts his arms around her and she in return lays her head on his chest, listening carefully to the sound of his heartbeat, still in awe of their love making.

She knows that what happened on this particular night is different. The air between them is different, thick with feeling, the look on his face one she can't entirely place.

"I can't sleep over, Daryl. We got work in the morning," she whispers, closing her eyes, hating the thought of having to leave his warm embrace.

"I know. Stay a little longer though," he says, pulling her closer, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.

And she does, for a little while longer, as long as she can without knowing her father will complain. They dress in silence, Daryl sitting on the bed, watching her put her tights back on, then her dress. He gets her shoes and coat, putting them on for her, hands just as gentle, as careful as when they'd made love, making her feel like the only other person in the universe.

She doesn't know how it is he's able to do that. Make her feel the way she does, without even saying anything, a glance, a touch. It may not be something she can fully explain or comprehend at this point, but maybe that's what makes it so special to her, so new and utterly extraordinary.

And as she's driving away, Beth realizes maybe this thing she's feeling, could be love.


	19. Chapter 19

Beth grinned to herself widely, the ravenous intensity of her thoughts still in bed, the night before with Daryl. Things were off to a fairly good start so far, maybe a little rocky in some aspects, but now that Hershel knew, it would only become easier to deal with.

Trying to roll around what Daryl had told her about the talk she'd had with her father in her mind, she can't help but be angry and somewhat frustrated with him. More now than ever, he was holding her back, just as he'd done her entire life. Was he really worried about her mental health as far as Daryl was concerned, or did he not know any better at this point?

Whatever the reason, she was ready to give him a piece of her mind that morning, swearing to herself that she was grown now and no longer would she let her father dictate her life for her. This was her chance, to fully show him that and make him see that despite of her past, despite of anything that had happened before meeting Daryl, they deserved a chance, at least.

Did she not deserve happiness? Of course that was obvious but why was Hershel so quick to cast out all her demons the second he got a moment alone with Daryl?

Interrupting her thoughts, Hershel shuffles into the kitchen, newspaper under his hand, pajamas and bathrobe still on.

"Mornin'," he smiles at her, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Daddy," she says flatly, trying to compose herself, wanting to find the right words to start without lashing out completely.

"Didn't hear you come in last night. Hope you weren't out too late. You know how I worry about you driving on those dark roads at night."

"A little after midnight," she answers back curtly, still seething with resentment.

"You know, I was a little taken back to see him. I was expecting that Zach boy your sister set you up with. Not your boss," Hershel tells her, settling down at the kitchen table with his coffee and paper.

Something about his tone tells her that he's ready to argue, ready to lay out his reasonings. Already having carefully planted the seed in his daughter's mind with what he had said to Daryl. He's playing the game he's so carefully set up to keep Beth _safe_ , hidden. Once again never exposed to the world, to the things that she could want if only she'd be given the chance.

This sense of false security Hershel had set up for himself, for Beth, was the very thing that kept her confined. This fight inside her was growing stronger and she knew that if she didn't stand her ground now, he'd find a way to make her back down forever.

"Maggie tried to push him on me for a while, believe me, but I think I'm old enough to make my own choices, don't you?" Beth shakes her head, laughing all the while.

Biting on a chapped lip, still sore and bruised from the night of passion before, worn like a lipstick so expertly applied. She'd hoped her father could see that, could smell Daryl's scent on her. Anything to make him more angry, to show her that this, finally was up to her. That she had done what she wanted, with whom she wanted.

"I suppose you are, but it's not the age difference I'm concerned about, Beth. If that's what you're hinting at."

"What are you so concerned about then? You're worried I can't handle a relationship? That I'll crumble at the first sight of trouble?" she spouts back quickly, the words coming out of her mouth before they even register.

Hershel shakes his head, not looking up from his paper. "I'm trying to be realistic here, honey. Do you think he's ready to deal with what you've got to offer? The possibility that things might not always be alright? That you could fly off the handle, have an episode and hurt yourself?"

"Is that what you think? That I'll never learn how to cope with my emotions? I'll never be able to take care of myself?" Beth chorts, trying to hold back the tears forming in her eyes at the thought of this possible, lonely future. A future without Daryl. "You think I'll never find someone who'll understand me?"

"You think this man is gonna want to sit around and take care of you, Beth?"

"I don't need anyone to take care of me. He's not the easy fix situation to my problems and I don't know where you got that idea but since I met Daryl a lot of things have come into perspective for me," she tells her father, the anger rising in her chest.

"Be careful not to fall for the first man to open your eyes, Beth. There's more to the world than someone like Daryl," Hershel says without a drop of compassion in his voice, completely unforgiving, his words coming out robotic and cold.

"You think I'm just some naive little girl and we both know that might have once been true, but Daryl sees me for who I really am. That's enough for me. You don't have to understand that but I don't appreciate you telling him things like that."

Then he laughs, breaking his stare from his paper to look up at his daughter. "He's going to find out everything in time soon enough."

Beth doesn't utter another word to him, dumping her still hot coffee in the sink. Little did Hershel know that Daryl knew more about her past, about her present and the issues at hand than he realized. That he had seen first hand the storm that raged inside her, waiting to make it's way out any way it could and was still willing to dive in head first.

Considering Dale had already coaxed Daryl into a meeting at the diner that morning, he'd decided that would probably be the best time to tell him the truth about he and Beth. Chances were Dale might not be entirely thrilled with the idea, in office romances often ending up messy and turbulent, but hopefully that would be the least of anyone's worries.

The diner Dale loved to go to had been in their small town for years, the local watering hole for most everyone.

Daryl orders a coffee as he waits for his boss, not surprised that he's late as usual. People had always said he'd had a screw loose and that was a fact. Never in his life had Daryl met anyone more scatterbrained than Dale. It was any wonder he'd ran the shop before hiring him on. In all the years he'd worked there and managed the shop he had yet to arrive somewhere after his boss.

"Sorry I'm late!" Dale said sheepishly as he slid into the booth, taking off his hat and setting it down beside him. "Have you ordered?"

"Nah, was gonna wait fer ya. Just got coffee," he mumbles back, taking another sip.

"So I've been thinking, there's a big car show coming up in Macon," Dale starts, eventually getting the waitress's attention to get himself a cup of coffee as they looked over the menus. "I really think it would make a lot of sense for you to go. Bring some of those custom pieces you've worked so hard on!"

"I don't know 'bout any of that. Got plenty of work here, don't I? Between running the shop and keeping up with my own orders," Daryl shrugs.

"Couldn't hurt though, could it? Get your name out there, meet some new people! Network! You've got a lot more to offer than I think you realize, son," he says with that same, intense crazy stare he's given Daryl so many times before when he's trying to push some idea on him.

"What am I gonna do? Drag all that shit down there, set up for this show and then what?"

"We'll send somebody down there with you to help get things set up, make it nice and official, get a banner and a pop up tent and everything!" Dale exclaimed excitedly, using his hands to gesture in the air.

"Really?" Daryl laughs, setting down his menu.

Dale had come up with some pretty scatter brained schemes in the past, but this one maybe wouldn't be so bad. The custom work he'd done recently had been pretty inconsistent - sure he had clients who kept coming back, but the extra money couldn't hurt either.

"Yeah! We'll send Merle or Beth or somebody to Macon with you!"

 _Beth_. That was right. Dale had gotten him so sidetracked with the idea of this car show that he hadn't even remembered that was the whole reason he'd wanted to talk to his boss this morning, business meeting aside.

"Uh, yeah I guess that could work. It'd only be fer the weekend right?" Daryl mumbled, looking away from Dale quickly to the waitress.

She arrived at the table quickly, taking the menu from Daryl's hands. "What'll it be, boys?"

"Pancake special," Daryl tells her, taking another gulp of coffee.

"How do you want those eggs?"

"Scrambled."

"Bacon or sausage?" she asks, scribbling down his order.

"Bacon."

"Alright, and for you sir?" she says turning to Dale.

"I'll have the same but over easy, bacon _and_ sausage," Dale tells her, winking.

The waitress hurries off with their orders and Dale continues on with his plans for the car show in Macon. Daryl tries to listen, really attempts to but in the back of his mind, he's still stuck on Beth and how it is he can bring his up delicately.

"So I'm thinking we'll send Merle and Beth up with you, she can set up the tent and all that, help you with potential clients," Dale tells him.

"Yeah, that could definitely work," Daryl mumbles, scratching the scruff at his beard. There was not going to be an easy way around this.

There was no beating around the bush with Dale either, he'd have to come right out and say it.

"The uh, the thing about Beth is," he begins, already fumbling over his words, "she and I have been uh, seein' each other recently. Not sure if a business trip is exactly a good idea?"

"Seeing each other?" Dale repeats, his dark, wild eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You've been dating your secretary?" He frowns, registering what Daryl is telling him.

Daryl shrugs, unsure how to say it another way more plainly than that. "Well, yeah. Just kind of happened, I guess."

"That's a little cliche, don't you think?" he questions, raising a brow.

"Ain't like that," he mumbles, "she's a real sweet girl and I care a lot 'bout her."

"How long has this been going on for?" Dale asks, suddenly looking more concerned now that he hears more about the situation at hand.

"Hasn't been anything official until recently," he says, chewing at his thumbnail nervously.

"Wow," Dale says, "I'm a little surprised to be honest. Didn't see this one coming. Not that I'm around all that much, but she seems like a real sweetheart, Daryl. I just hope you'll be professional, alright? Don't let things between you two get in the way of work. The shop needs to come first."

"Course," Daryl mumbles, "Ain't gonna do anything to make ya look bad. Wouldn't be the first guy to ever date his secretary."

Daryl couldn't help but fight back a grin thinking of all the things he and Beth had already done at the shop that probably wouldn't be considered to be professional. Of course he'd done the right thing, they hadn't fooled around in the shop in weeks, but he didn't feel guilty about it one way or another.

"Like I said, maybe a little cliche, but she is a cute girl, after all. Maybe a little young for you, but I'm not here to judge," he laughs a little, suddenly easing Daryl's nerves.

"Age ain't nothin' but a number, right?"

"And what exactly is that number?"

Daryl could see Dale playing devil's advocate, the gears turning in his head with more proficiency as he got more information out of him.

"Not much. Fifteen years."

Taking a deep breath in, Dale shakes his head, shooting him a wicked grin. "I think you and Beth could be good for each other, but promise me you'll take all of these things into consideration, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I will," he mumbles.

"And you promise me one thing! Keep it professional at the shop, alright?" he says again firmly.

Before Daryl could answer, the waitress was back with their food and Dale excitedly yammered on about Macon as they ate their breakfasts, everything finally out in the air, but all he could think of was getting back to her, back to the shop.

The image of her typing away at her desk filling his head, the soft flush on her cheeks, so beautifully dusting her ivory skin. Her hair braided into a golden crown up top her head exposing her elegant swan like neck. The peach fuzz that dusted her there, soft and downy as he trailed his fingers across it, erupting goosebumps in their wake.

There was no part of Beth that he wasn't completely enamored with. The slight of her hips, the two small dimples that adorned her lower back. The constellation of freckles that kissed her skin. Every piece of her was a holy artifact to him and he worshipped her in any and every way he could think of.

These feelings were all consuming but never overwhelming, his feelings for her filling him up, encompassing his mind in every way. All and only thoughts of her.

By the time Daryl made his way back, Beth was already halfway done with most of the bills and invoices for the morning. She was standing in the breakroom making coffee, day dreaming most likely, his presence unbeknownst to her. The far-away look on her face told him she'd been standing there a while, completely lost in thought. That sweet, pensive smile on her lips just enough so one dimple shows.

Everyone else down in the shop, Merle off on a tow, they were the only ones in the shop. Ghosting his hands across the small of her back, she isn't startled, leaning into his embrace, her breath hitching only slightly.

"Talked to him," Daryl growled, low against her ear. "Everythings fine, baby doll."

"Yeah?" Beth whispered, turning to face him, snaking her hands behind his neck.

"Yeah," he murmurs against her lips, pressing gently against her, the want, the need so saturated between them, always there.

Beth pulls back from him, eyes still hazy and dark. She continues pouring the coffee, handing him his mug as always, making a cup for herself as well.

"What's wrong?"

"Got into it with my daddy this morning. I'm so sick of him trying to fill my head with lies, you know? God forbid I should actually find someone who makes me happy," she sighs, leaning against him, laying her head against his shoulder as they lean against the counter in unison.

"It's up to _you,_ Beth. Remember that," he nodded, reaching for her hand, lifting it to kiss gingerly before releasing it gently.

Looking at him from the side of her vision, she admires the man before her. So handsome, strong and tender, so absolutely understanding of her in every way. How could anyone deny that this man wouldn't do anything and everything in his power to make her happy? To keep her safe and content, to make her life more full and beautiful, showing her that together they could fight any demons in their midst.

"I feel stronger than I've felt since I met you, Daryl. For the first time in my life, I know what I want," she marveled at the realization.

"That ain't me, Beth. You've always been strong, just don't always know it's there inside ya," he assures her, gripping her hand tightly, intertwining their fingers together.

"That's exactly why we work, you know? You make me see the things in myself I didn't even know were ever there. Or at least, you remind me," she says quietly, looking away from him suddenly as if that proclamation was too much for her.

"I wanna see ya happy, Beth. Anything and everything I can do to support ya, I'm always here for ya," he mutters gingerly, planting a kiss on her head.

Taking the cup from his hand and setting down her own, Beth burrows her head in his chest, clutching onto him tightly, wanting to anything to get as close to him as she can in this short space of time.

"Ya deserve the world, girl. I'm planning on doin' my best to give that to ya,"

Beth reaches up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his forehead, retreating from his embrace to get back to her duties. Sometimes the things he says to her require no response, but this one she cannot answer, for she hopes that promise will always be kept, insecurities finding their way back to her mind.

"What did Dale say?" she inquires, pouring some cream into her mug.

"Said he wants us to keep things professional here at the shop."

Looking down at her mug, she can't help but laugh, the apples of her cheeks turning bright red. "Think it's a little late for that considering all the dirty things we've already done here, don't you think?"

"That's what I thought when he told me but that's between me and you, baby doll," he grins back, his face mirroring her crimson glow. "'Sides, the past is the past right?"

He eyes her, licking his lips, wanting to drag her to his office and rip every shred of clothes off her body, the feeling of her flesh between his fingers like a memory burnt into his mind.

"We've been good though, haven't we? Haven't fooled around here in a while," she smiles at him softly, That sweet angelic smile that melts away all thought process, hypnotizing him with the flash of her pearly whites.

"You been plenty good. Plan on rewarding you fer it too," he noted, a flash of mischief in his eyes. Cobalt that orbs that invade her soul, penetrating her heart.

What lay between them now something so much more powerful, thrilling and all consuming, a blossoming love neither of them had ever really experienced up until this point. For having known each other only a number of months, the time and the inner turmoils they'd gone through together bringing them even closer. It was so much more than sex now.

"I try to be good for you. You know that." Her smile deepens, the small dimples in her cheeks showing fully now.

"Oh I know, that's why yer comin' with me to a car show in Macon," Daryl smirks.

"What?" her eyes widen the size of dinner plates and she stands up to cross the room, slinking her arms around his waist. "You're taking me with you?!"

"Per Dale's request and everything. We might have to bring Merle, but it'd still be nice to get time away together."

"I'd love that. A weekend away sounds like a dream," she mused, her face light up, already thinking of all the things they could do alone together.

The thought of a weekend away _was_ a dream. Beth wouldn't have to answer to her father, they could have the chance to enjoy each other without the confines of their lives, the stress, the the turbulence of a new relationship weighing down on them.

"We'll get all the kinks worked out with Dale, but it'll be a good time, darlin," he grinned, letting the happiness of their moment alone together, all doubts free from his mind.

"What's there to do in Macon, anyways? Besides the car show?" she asks coyly.

"Shit, girl. There's plenty to do in Macon! The Allman Brothers even got a museum there and everythin'. It's called The Big House. Not that I expect a young thing like you to know who they are," he chuckles, guzzling down the rest of his coffee.

"I know more than you think, Daryl Dixon. Never think I listened to my daddy's old records, huh? Might surprise ya," Beth flirts, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Girl, yer full of surprises," he laughs, eyes darkening with lust, already to take her at any given moment, all rules aside.

If it were up to him, he'd scoop her up in his arms and take her to his office, lay her atop the desk and rip apart every article of clothing until he discovered her core. The part of her that made his head stir, the part of her that kept him up at night, longing to have her there in his arms and in his bed. His need to pleasure her, to give her absolutely everything outweighing all other emotions in his mind.

The echoing of what could only be described as Merle's workboots broke the spell, the moment between them dissipating slowly, his steps a reminder of where they were, sending them back to reality.

"Well if it ain't the Romeo and Juliet of Horvath's!" Merle chuckled as he made his way to the break room.

"Hush, Merle," Beth warned, narrowing his eyes at him as she poured him a cup of coffee, doctoring it up the way she knew he liked.

"Girl, ya know I can't help but try to get yer panties in a twist and bust his balls all at the same time," he laughs, patting Daryl on the shoulder with a heavy palm. "Or at least I'd have thought you'd have picked up on my humor by now."

Beth picked up on Daryl's nervousness now, everything out in the air, their relationship public for all the world to see, including Merle.

"So y'all shackin' up er what?"

Daryl shot Merle a look then, a _quit-while-you're-head_ kind of look but it sent both he and Beth into a fit of laugher and even and even then, Daryl couldn't help but smile at that. His brother, stupid as usual, going from making Beth uncomfortable to hilarious hysterics in only a matter of moments. If she'd thought her family would be a hurdle for them, Merle would be milestone.

"So, are ya?" Merle asked, gesturing towards Beth for a response as she wiped away the few tears that had escaped from the corner of her eyes.

"What?" she chuckled, looking from Merle to Daryl in disbelief, "I hardly doubt you expected us to sit you down and tell you, Merle."

"Why the hell not? Didn't wanna ask fer my blessin', huh?" he pressed, tipping back in his chair.

"'Cause nobody gives a shit what you think," Daryl laughed, coming up behind Beth to wrap his arms around her waist, firm at her hips.

Merle went on to tell several stories of how Daryl did care about his older brother's opinion, willing to do anything he said, just about.

It was then that Beth felt a real sense of peace, of presence with her life. Sure, things were difficult, there were many things to overcome still, but having the knowledge of the strength inside her made the thoughts of her future that much better. More cups of coffee, more laughter and shared stories between the three of them. Sure, he'd been rough around the edges, protective of his brother's feelings at first, but Beth knew she'd had Merle's approval long before that day.


	20. Chapter 20

Later that evening, as the shop began to close, Beth waited for him as she so often had for several weeks now. The butterflies in her stomach started to roam free, detecting Daryl's imminent presence, their movement leaving her feeling shaky, excited, breathless. Soon he would make his way out of his office, down to the garage to begin his custom work, as always.

Although she hadn't asked him, no plans had been made after work, so chances were good that they would still spend the evening together. Beth watching in silence as he worked, happy to be in his company the rest of the world behind them, as if they only existed in that moment.

But when it was just the two of them, nothing else existed at all. There was no other thought, no other want or need in her mind besides him.

"Hey," Daryl mumbles, voice gritty as he puts his hands on either side of her desk, the sudden sound catching her attention.

"Hi," she grins back, eyes meeting his.

"Wanna come downstairs?" he asks as if he'd already read her thoughts, so completely in tune with one another even more so now.

"Okay, I'd like that," Beth sighs, getting up from her chair, feeling his eyes on her as she finishes cleaning up, closing down the shop and locking the front doors.

She can feel his eyes on her, the tension in the room growing with each shaky breath. His gaze is strong, powerful, pulling her to him like a magnet.

"No funny business, right? Gotta be professional?" she chuckles, knowing they wouldn't be following that one simple rule Daryl had agreed to.

Not with the way he's looking at her, the way she's feeling. Daryl might have tried to be aloof, tried to keep things from her, but she could read him now. All the signs, the little glances.

"Don't know," he shrugs. "Suppose anything could happen."

"Well, I wouldn't want to lose my job or anything, Mr. Dixon," Beth teases as they make their way down the stairs, his steps heavy behind her.

"Guess it's a good thing I'm yer boss then, huh?" he growls into her ear as they reach the bottom step, pressing himself up against her body tightly, harshly. She can already feel him hard against her ass, grinding into her.

"It is, it's a very good thing," Beth breathes out, arching into him, reaching her hand behind his neck, the other on top of his hand as it traces her body.

"And you've been a very good girl, so I'm gonna keep my promise and reward ya, alright?"

Beth nods her head vigorously, wondering how it was that he had ever made her nervous before. This game they play is such a comfort to her now, the thing that puts her back together again. Reminding her every time that she is whole.

"Gonna get started on this piece while ya sit over there, alright?" Daryl whispers hot against her ear, grudgingly letting her go from his intimate embrace. "And if yer patient, I'll make sure ya get what ya deserve, alright?"

Stepping forward, she immediately misses his warmth, his arms around her keep everything together, everything in place. As much as she wanted everything to start right then and there, to begin as feverishly passionate as it always ended, she knew that Daryl not only loved to tease her, but he also had a job to to.

He slaps her ass quickly, letting out a chuckle before walking over to the vintage truck she assumed was the custom piece.

Sitting down on the chair as she first had their first time in the garage, Beth pulls the blanket up to her tightly.

"Ya ain't poutin' over there, are ya?" he calls to her, looking at her with a total sense of pleasure and amusement on his face. "'Cause girls who pout don't get anythin.'"

"No, I just…" she falters, wanting to be honest, open, no insecurities mattered now that she knew, knew that this man cared about her so fully and completely. "...want you."

"Gotta be patient, baby doll," he smirks, shaking his head.

He tells her more about Macon for a while, about the city and the places where he'd like to take her, different restaurants and everything. Beth is excited, thrilled even to get this time away with him, but she can't help ignore the nagging, incessant need growing between her legs.

Being good for him is often difficult, she's beginning to find. Would he be angry, would he notice if she slipped her finger underneath her dress, there under the blanket? Would he allow her permission for that sort of thing, she wondered. Surely if she did it without asking, he'd tell her no.

"Y'alright, Beth?" he asks her some time later, her thoughts completely lost imagining these words coming out of her mouth, still feeling so dirty and somehow wrong.

"Yeah," she breathes out, exasperated with herself for not telling him what she wants to do.

He stops working, wiping off his hands to come over to her, kneeling in front of the chair.

"What's wrong?"

"Could I…" she starts, her face already turning red, "get started without you?"

Daryl laughs then, leaning forward to whisper in her ear although they were the only ones there. "Ya been real good, baby. I don't mind."

Leaning in to press his lips to hers, he slips his hand up her skirt, looking for the waistband of her tights and panties, peeling them off slowly.

"There ya go," he whispers huskily, pushing her legs apart to take a look for himself.

He stays there for a moment, eyes reverting from her face to her soaking, aching mound, looking as if he'd have to tear himself away or he'd never leave.

"Promise ya won't have too much fun without me," he growls, leaning in to to deliver a hungry, carnal kiss, cupping her small face in his enormous palms. After few moments, he pulls away from her, eyes clouded with lust.

Only having masturbated a handful of times, Beth feels awkward, unsure, but she felt as though this move, daring and risky, was one he would like. One he would appreciate-a chance for her to be bold, to fully let go and give herself to _this,_ to him completely.

Propping her legs up on the sides of the armchair, she hikes up her skirt, the shock of the cool air hitting her there, nerves heightened as she feels him watching her from behind the car as if he's not interested. As if he isn't paying attention to every movement, waiting to strike when the time is right. He's so good at turning off that switch, moving into a mode of control, always ready for the next step.

But it's not about control now. The control Beth had felt to exert over herself, or the control pushed on her by her father, Maggie, or even Daryl-it's about letting go.

Hands skimming over her thighs slowly, closing her eyes and letting her body relax, Beth tells herself to enjoy it, to let go. She had earned this, he had told her that, but after what they had gone through, a day of coming clean to everyone, a little fun was needed. She knew she had to have earned that much.

Unsure where to begin, Beth slowly caresses the tendrils of curly hair between her legs, already feeling the damp moisture gathering from her growing arousal, making her heart skip a beat. Exploring further, she uses her other hand to spread her lips, gently sliding her fingers up and down her slit, the heat almost overwhelming, drowning her senses.

And it feels good, better, _so_ much better than anything she's ever attempted on her own because she's not alone. He's given her this token, this gift to do as she pleases. In his company of course, but that makes it infinitely better.

Stroke by stroke, she gets more comfortable, more confident as she grows wetter, teasing herself in a way Daryl might have. Trying to mimic his movement by memory, she cups herself with her palm just as he had done before, rubbing up and down experimentally, finding an awkward rhythm over time.

Not realizing she's becoming more vocal, the soft mewls and hums coming from her throat are getting louder and louder, catching Daryl's attention, as if he hadn't already been watching her. Catching glances from underneath the truck.

"Mmmm…" Beth exhales out deeply, slipping a finger inside for a second, moving in and out a few times, still not entirely sure what to do. But something was building, burning her up from the inside out, so that must have been a good sign.

From the corner of her eye she sees him roll out from underneath the truck, standing up to watch her completely now, a mixture of awe and mischief on his face. She assumes he's thinking of all the things he'd rather do with his fingers than hers.

He washes his hands thoroughly, taking his time, drying them off as she continues to rub herself, slowly pressing down on her clit now, all the blood in her body rushing to her pussy, throbbing and hungry for him.

"Am I not doin' this like you would?" she laughs, rubbing a little faster now, finding that maybe her own hands weren't lacking as much skill as she thought.

"Hell nah, seem to be doin' a pretty good job yerself there, girl," Daryl chuckles, unzipping his coveralls to the waist and tying them there, exposing his dirty white undershirt.

Even though he's not close, the smell of his body odor and the motor oils wafts between them, intoxicating her further.

Taking a beer from the mini fridge, he takes a seat on the overturned crate across from her, eyes locked on her fingers moving all over now. The other hand groping at her breasts over her shirt.

"Ya don't masterbate often, huh?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow. "I can tell."

"No, um, not all that often," Beth breathes out, gasping for air, only feeling bashful and completely unskilled. "Am I doin' an awful job?"

Shaking his head as he takes a sip of beer, he chuckles at her. "That ain't fer me to decide. Ya make yerself come, then yer doin' a good job."

"I've never made myself come… not with my hands."

"Ya got a vibrator at home er somethin'?"

Nodding her head, she pulls her hand away… not feeling completely defeated but a little awkward.

"C'mere," he says, setting down the beer and standing up.

Taking her hand and lifting her from the chair, he cups her face with his hand, thumb brushing over her lips. He scans her face, studying her features before kissing her gently, slowly becoming more passionate as he moves his other hand to cup her bare ass cheek under her skirt.

Breaking away, he settles in the chair, pulling her down on top of him. Hiking up her skirt and spreading her legs as he'd done before, Daryl takes her hand and places his own on top, slowly showing her how to touch herself the way he has so many times before. So effortlessly he glides along, gently whispering things in her ear as he breaks away from her hand after placing her fingers on her clit.

"There ya go, baby doll. Rub that sweet little pussy for me," he breathes against her neck, nipping and biting at the skin there. "Need me to show you how, hmm?"

" _Yes_ ," she moans, arching backwards, the rhythm becoming more familiar to her now.

"Yer so fuckin' good, Beth. _So_ fucking good, baby. Ya don't know how much I need ya," he grunts, pressing himself between her bare asscheeks, the tough texture of his pants rubbing against her skin.

"I need you, _always_ ," she cries out, using one hand to quickly unbutton the top of her shirt, desperately trying to get to her breasts.

"Look at you, baby. So greedy. Want them tits out fer me too, huh? Gonna tug on your nipples too, hmm?"

" _Help me,"_ Beth hisses under her breath, struggling to get the last few buttons.

Bringing his other hand up, he frees her from the confines of her shirt, pulling the thin bra to the side, nipples already hard and aching for him.

Tugging at one vigorously, he twists so hard it's almost painful but it leaves her wanting, begging for more.

"Now you, baby," he whispers as he continues to run his fingers over her heat, inserting two strong, thick fingers inside her, the sudden sensation surprising her.

" _Daryl,"_ she moans moving her hips against his movements, chasing every one thrust for thrust.

"That's my good girl. Yer always so good fer me," he coos, placing gentle kisses along her neck, her face. "Go on, baby. Ride my hand. Do what feels good."

And she does, losing herself in his touch, everything but the pleasure they give one another melting away, leaving all doubts, all insecurities behind them. Moving her hips to match the rhythm he's set, finally catching up, hitting the spot that's just right - so much that it leaves her breathless, speechless. Lost in absolute bliss.

As much as Beth has the ability to be vocal, panting and crying, wincing in pain and agony...sweetly so... she can also be as quiet, as tame and subdued. Her body weightless, eyes rolled back in her head, she feels as if there's not a bone in her body, Daryl being the only thing keeping her upright.

They're both out of breath, and as she is coming down from her orgasm, he holds her tightly against him, one hand still kneading at her breast, gently teasing her taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Mmm," she breathed out with a little chuckle, turning her head to meet his lips, kissing him hungrily.

"Shit, girl. Yer bad," he laughs softly against her mouth. " _My_ _bad_ _girl_."

The grit of his voice sends shivers throughout her entire body and he takes notice, pulling the blanket from the ground around her, rubbing her bare legs with his free hand, still slick with her juices.

Hearing those words detonated something rooted deep within her, this need to be fully possessed by him, consumed, enchanted her mind, an overwhelming daze taking over _everything_. And she was willing to give that to him, but it was never enough. She needed to get under his skin as he had hers.

"So much for being professional, hmm?" Beth smirks, running her fingers along his cock, tight and restricted in his coveralls.

"Fuck it. I'm the manager, ain't I?"

"You are," she murmurs, pulling down the zipper, eager to reach within, to take him in the way that he had her. "And that means you get to make the rules, right?"

"Uh huh, that's exactly what it means," Daryl growls, helping her to get his pants down the rest of the way, his cock springing free. "Ya know what I want, hmm?"

Beth licks her lips, turning around to face him fully now, her hand moving slowly under his, stroking so slowly she knows he must be in agony.

"My mouth?"

"Nah, I always want your mouth, baby doll, but I ain't gonna last if ya do that. Not now I ain't," he laughs, turning her back around.

"Gonna let ya ride me like this," Daryl instructs her, pushing her skirt up further, gripping her ass cheek tightly, hissing at the contact of her supple skin beneath his hand.

Beth grips the side of the arm chair, trying to keep her balance as best as she can, waiting for him to line them up.

"Mmmf," she gasps as he spreads her... lips tight, eyes closing shut.

"So fucking tight."

"Daryl, _please_."

"Please, what? I'm enjoying myself, here. Don't gotta be greedy, girl," he laughs again, almost cruel.

Slowly, he rubs the tip of his cock against her, watching her squirm under his grip.

"Beth?"

"What's wrong?" she huffs as he slides his cock across her wet folds.

"Are you on anything? The pill er whatever? Feel like an ass askin' ya this now," the way he says it is almost bashful, as if he'd mustered up all the courage in the world to ask her that.

"Um, Maggie kind of talked me into it, yeah," she confesses.

"How long ago?"

"About a month?"

"Why didn't ya say anythin?" he frowns, pulling her into his lap, pushing a stray hair behind her ear.

"I wasn't sure what to say. It's a little awkward, I guess," Beth shrugs, biting her lip.

He's quiet for a moment, rubbing small circles on her shoulder with his thumb, his other arm tight around her waist.

"Would it be alright? We haven't done anything at the shop in a while, so I don't got any condoms," he explains finally.

"Are you clean? I mean, you've been tested?" she spits out, the words sounding even more strange and awkward than they'd sounded in her head.

"Yeah," he whispers against her cheekbone, the scruff of his beard tickling her skin. "Got tested 'bout six months back. Only been with you since then."

Beth nods, understanding. Feeling relieved with his answer, she props herself back up on the chair in his lap, facing away from him.

Taking his still hard cock in her hand, she strokes him a few times, resulting in a moan and a shudder from them both, the tip thick with precum.

"There ya go," Daryl sighs, hands on her hips, encouraging her and she slowly sinks herself down on his length.

Immediately, the difference is apparent, the lack of barrier between them invoking a sensation so carnal, so savage, they both cry out.

"Daryl, I, oh _fuck_ ," she faults, trying to find any words to describe what she's feeling.

"I know, sweetheart, ya feel _so_ fuckin' good," he whispers, his cock pulsating inside her, relishing in this new sensation, filling her up, stretching her out so completely.

Slowly, with his encouragement, she begins moving her hips, this angle being one she'd had yet to fully get used to, but the control it gave her, the ability to move at her own leisure, made things even more satisfying.

"There ya go," he says again, in that low, gravely voice, thrusting his hips against her gentle rocking.

As much as Daryl loved to lay her over the side of the bed and fuck her into the mattress until she couldn't remember either of their names, there's something comforting about being here together, going slow like this, taking their time.

Feeling all her muscles slowly start to tighten around his cock, he knows she's getting closer, but still she obeys him, keeping this slow, steady pace.

" _Good girl_ ," he purrs, "Fuck, I love to watch ya go slow like this. Sliding up and down my dick like ya can't get enough of it."

Nodding her head, Beth looks back to acknowledge him, following the rules as best she can, trying to choke out a response.

"Mmm, _Daryl_ ," she moans, one hand tweaking her nipple, the other cupping his balls, gently tugging and massaging while trying to keep up with the rhythm. " _So_ , so good."

"Ya like that? Don't ya?" he snickers, jutting his hips into her with great force, sending a wave of pleasure through every nerve in her body.

Her muscles tense, clenching around him, trying to keep her balance, completely lost, gone. Daryl holds her hips steady as she rides out her orgasm, continuing to thrust into her despite the stillness. Flipping her over, he plants kisses along her face, her lips, setting her on the edge of the chair, her legs on either side of his shoulders.

" _Baby_ , you're so good. So good fer me," he whispers, hands tangled in her hair.

"Please, Daryl," Beth cries out, feeling another climax coming quickly.

"Come with me, Beth," he murmurs, bottoming out, trying to hold on as long as he can, wanting to give her everything he has.

She cries out this time, eyes rolling back in her head, all insecurities gone, both hands on his backside, pressing him closer, never close enough to her. Emptying himself into her, Beth feels every pulse of his cock, every twitch.

He pulls out carefully, cleaning her up with his spare bandana, then himself. Pulling up his coveralls and zipping them up, Daryl helps Beth dress again, retrieving her tights and panties from the ground.

Instead of going back to work, they collapse into the chair, exhausted but blissfully happy. Neither of them could remember a feeling like this, a sense of contentment so consuming, there was no running from it, no denying it.

Beth knows she loves him, wants to badly to utter those words, but instead she just closes her eyes tightly, clutching to his chest.

"Yer everything to me, girl. Ya know that?" he whispers, kissing the top of her head.

Nuzzling closer to him, Beth lifts her head to kiss his lips, wishing the words could transfer to his skin.

"I've never been so happy in my whole life," she grins against his mouth, never wanting to leave this moment, his embrace.

"Good. I plan on keepin' that way."


End file.
